


Circumstance by Feliciaiswrite (Lynette N. Brian)

by Scarecrow_Dolphin



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 207,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2096001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarecrow_Dolphin/pseuds/Scarecrow_Dolphin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't own this piece of work, nor will I ever claim to. My simple wish was to be able to download this in 'mobi' format on my newly acquired kindle for ease of reading. This option is available to all in the top, right-hand corner of the page. Lynette N. Brian's work is a piece of art that I have reread for many years now on the tiny screen of my hand-held blackberry phone. On the bus, on my spare breaks at college, at odious family outings where I have been bored out of my skull; Circumstance has never failed to amuse and hold my attention for long periods of time.<br/>When Feliciaiswrite disappeared, I was upset that such a lovely and heartwarming story would be forever incomplete. The writer had true skill in terms of writing. So, when I was upgraded to the Kindle, I took the 'doc' file and wished to read it, like I had in the past, on this new device too. The font of the writing was too small for my tastes and I decided to upload the file as a mobi format through the means I am using now.<br/>It's not my intention to claim credit for this. If anyone expresses a desire for me to take this down; As soon as I receive the notice, I will do so immediately and without question</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapters 1-6

Circumstance by Lynette N. Brian  
Chapter  
Prologue  
It was raining, when Kakashi arrived. The cold, frigid stillness, the deserted streets, alleyways, and the stale air seemed to resonate with the urgency in the notice sent to him via messenger bird. In fact, all active Shinobi received the same notification he had. Kakashi might have understood the situation or been closer to the tragedy more than most, through Naruto and Jiraiya, but with news this dire, Kakashi doubted a soul in Konoha did not already know what many had been dreading for months now. The issued statement said as followed:  
18:00 hours this evening marked the passing of Hokage Godaime. All active Shinobi are to abort their missions and return to Konoha, immediately.  
It was much too soon, Kakashi thought, during his race back to the village. Though he would have never voiced his worries, the Legendary Copy Nin had held high hopes for Tsunade's recovery. No one in the village expected her to die and with such swiftness. For Kakashi, it was a heavy blow to his conscience, rooted to his concern for Naruto who forced his high spirits upon the village that had once been so grateful to him for saving them from Pain.  
Since Konoha's recent war, Team 7 had disbanded to pursue their own individual Shinobi careers, so Kakashi didn't see much of his former student. When he did see Naruto, the blonde blob of excitement was in his usual high spirits, helping the village reconstruct from all the battle damage. Now, the jounin couldn't imagine what this new blow had done to Naruto's morale.  
It interest Kakashi, in how Naruto came to mind. He was his first worry when learning Tsunade-sama had passed on. The more and more Naruto worked to prove his worth to the village, Kakashi couldn't help but feel that small pinch of pride and confidence, as if Naruto was of his own kin. Kakashi skipped branch after branch and stone after stone, thinking of how he played favorites during his stint as Team 7's sensei. He shook his head... Despite his detached persona, Kakashi felt he shared a bond with Sasuke Uchiha.  
He once thought he did, at least.  
It was eerily quiet, Kakashi observed. Every now and then the sound of human howling could be heard—the collective lament of a village that had lost their leader. It was the same when the Fourth died, as well as the Third. Kakashi stopped just at the memorial stone, the familiar sight a crutch for all his woes. He nudged his fingers against his brow, watching the ascending moon shine against the metal plate on his fingerless glove. He closed his one visible eye and opened it slowly, noticing for the first time all the frantic Shinobi jumping about the night. It was late, and Kakashi's fellow ninja were returning to their homes, offices or missions room, in order to find some sort of comfort or solidarity.  
Their Shinobi minds were in sync: No village could sustain peace without a leader. As of now, Konoha was vulnerable to foreign attacks.  
Kakashi left the memorial sight, where the soft pitter-patter of rain pouring on the stone filled him with his own unique sense of comfort, and jumped off to the first place that materialized in his mind: Naruto's apartment. But when he got there, hanging lazily by the open windowsill, he quickly noted that the flat was seemingly empty, and silent...much too quiet for Naruto Uzumaki; much too quiet for Kakashi's liking.  
He flashed off to the next possible place, or, at least the place he was willing to go. Though Naruto would be the type to visit a close person who had fallen ill or had fallen dead, Kakashi knew Naruto wouldn't be anywhere near Tsunade. For one, a Hokage's body was off limits to both civilians and Shinobi who were not doctors or coronary technicians. Even family and friends, however close, were denied access so to ensure the safety of the remains and eliminate any possibility of sabotage. The Hokage's tower and anywhere near Tsunade's offices would be off-limits, as well.  
That left three places: Ichiraku's, which was highly inappropriate, Iruka-sensei's, and a place Kakashi rather not consider.  
Kakashi took the respectable course, and decided to knock on Iruka-sensei's front door. Any other day, he opted for the windowsill, as he always did, annoying the Academy teacher in the process. He found it most satisfactory to see the younger chunin flush red with irritation, those warm brown eyes of his narrow in on the jounin the same way they did in the Missions Room when Kakashi turned in a report that was less than satisfactory. Since Naruto's first Chunin Exam, Kakashi managed to find any opportune moment in his busy schedule to accost Iruka with feigned politeness and false interest. He almost felt bad for how the innocent teacher fell for his subtle antics, time and time again, and Kakashi might have stopped long ago had it not been so entertaining.  
Now Kakashi had Iruka-sensei on the mind.  
Maybe Kakashi's subconscious was honing in on those he sensed were close to him, in light of such a devastating event. Not that he and Iruka were good friends or even tolerable of each others' company at times, but the one person they shared in common, and cared equally for, was Naruto. When he wasn't away, off on a mission, Kakashi found most of his time spent joining Naruto and Iruka for ramen or helping them reconstruct the village. He'd learn a lot about the chunin, a lot of which he wished he could erase from his memory banks because the knowledge was so utterly useless.  
After a few minutes of silence, Kakashi rapt on Iruka's door again and was met with the same steely silence until... "It's open," he heard the chunin's soft-spoken reply. Kakashi let himself in, first taking in the immaculate cleanliness of the younger man's apartment. It caught him off-guard, every time, knowing that Naruto spent as much of his free time with Iruka as he did at Ichiraku's. Then he narrowed his sight on Iruka and the young man sitting on the couch, both hunched over themselves.  
Iruka looked up first, with one hand still rubbing small circles into Naruto's back. "Hello, Kakashi-sensei," the man smiled, albeit sadly. Even then, the smile was short-lived and fell tragically from Iruka's features. Kakashi also found that, despite himself, witnessing a smile grace Iruka's lips was just as gratifying as tormenting him.  
"Iruka-sensei," Kakashi nodded, closing the door behind him. He went to address Naruto but fell short when he realized the state the blonde was in. His head rested against the palms of his hands, and his elbows stabbed into his thighs. Due to the warm lighting of Iruka's living room, the orange of Naruto's attire melded into the burnt beige of Iruka's couch. It would seem to any on-looker as though the blonde was slowly dissolving into the security of Iruka's furniture.  
He looked to Iruka but the chunin quickly forgot the other man was there, standing in the middle of his home, instead concentrating on the boy in his charge. Kakashi found himself watching the two, the way Iruka quietly consoled and reassured Naruto. Naruto's subtle shoulder shrugs indicated his reciprocation of Iruka's comfort. Kakashi couldn't recall a time he accepted such comfort when the Fourth, his sensei, died. Iruka was the perfect fit, a perfect guardian and parent figure, especially when it came to Naruto. Iruka was a kind and caring, gentle soul...nothing like what Shinobi were groomed to be—were notorious for being. The simple chunin was good with children. Coddled them, really.  
It was a real wonder how any student of Iruka's even managed to graduate from the Academy.  
"Naruto," Kakashi finally muttered through the tight restraint of his mask. Naruto didn't look to him. He didn't even move to shrug his shoulders.  
"He's been like this since the news reached him," Iruka explained softly, his gentle gaze still intent on watching the boy before them. Kakashi decided to focus in on Iruka again, wearily eying the younger man. Iruka must have felt his lingering gaze, because the chunin slowly turned towards him. "I started thinking he might be in shock. I know, it's not half as bad as when Jiraiya-sama died, but I thought I'd deliver Naruto the news myself."  
"When did you find out?" Kakashi asked a bit tersely.  
"I was with Shizune, helping her with Tsunade-sama's paperwork load."  
"I was on a mission when I got the news," Kakashi felt the need to explain. Iruka nodded, understanding Kakashi's previous obligations, before returning his attention to the brooding boy beside him. He reached around Naruto's shoulders and pulled him into a slight hug, and Naruto responded by tilting into the embrace. "What happen?"  
"No one's been informed yet, but rumor has it Tsunade-sama's body could no longer take the strain. With years of rigorous regeneration and the drain that occurred during Pain's attack, the Kyuubi, not to mention Tsunade's old age...they assume her body could never really recuperate after the war."  
"It's never good to assume, Iruka, especially now," Kakashi breathed, in need of some counter response to Iruka's statement. Whenever Iruka mentioned Pain, Kakashi couldn't help but recall the predicament in which he found the chunin while tracking the Akatsuki member down. To imagine that just a second later, a second behind Pain's movements, Iruka would have been another body to count among the throng of dead bodies...if Naruto was furious with Jiraiya's death and deeply troubled with Tsunade's, then Kakashi could not even imagine the agony Naruto would put himself through had Iruka died by Pain's hand. He would never fully recover had Iruka past on, and Kakashi would probably never be forgiven had he not stopped Pain in time.  
"I know that," Iruka said objectively, causing Kakashi to frown behind his mask. "That's just what people are saying. The preliminary report from the hospital hasn't been released yet." Iruka brushed the palm of his hand up against the side of Naruto's head, allowing his fingers to graze through Naruto's blonde locks soothingly...lovingly.  
"Well, I wouldn't be too hesitant to consider the possibility of foul-play afoot," Kakashi pressed on. "What with the war at it's end and Konoha still in a state of vulnerability, it would be easy for an enemy country to infiltrate our numbers and further their political agenda." Naruto's shoulders tensed. "With all active Shinobi here, protecting their own, who's to say there's not a plot against Konoha being played out just outside our borders?"  
Iruka frowned, his eyes equally burning into Kakashi's one-eyed leer. "That's enough, Kakashi," he spoke sternly.  
"You are an Academy teacher, Iruka. You do not understand the limitations of 'enough' just quite yet."  
"You are upsetting Naruto," Iruka hissed, unfazed by Kakashi's sharp tongue. He was too concerned to care whether he respected him or not, Kakashi gathered. In fact, it wasn't anger or annoyance in Iruka's tone but fear and worry, in response to Kakashi's words. Iruka's face softened. "Kakashi-sensei, you must have returned late...I imagine your recent mission took you to quite a far distance, but there was a meeting that you missed just a few hours after Tsunade's death."  
"Maa...Care to inform me on the finer points of the meeting, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi asked, sure to keep his critical personality at bay. He didn't want to start an argument with Iruka and get him all hot and bothered, as per usual, so he retreated with his arms defensively tucked against the front of his vest. He looked to Naruto, whose gaze was still shot to the floor.  
"What number of Shinobi present at the time were addressed in one of the assembly rooms. We were ordered to be on the alert: ensure the safety of loved ones, make sure all civilians were indoors, and form teams to take shifts and reassess the village."  
"Why aren't you on duty then?"  
Iruka shot him a bewildered glance. "I couldn't leave Naruto's side."  
"He's a capable Shinobi," Kakashi examined in a bored tone. "I'm sure he can take care of himself." Iruka chose not to respond to Kakashi's insincerity, focusing all his attention on Naruto. "I didn't come here to upset Naruto, but I'm sure even he understands that now is not the time to wallow in sadness. The Hokage is dead, and we need to be more vigilant than ever before."  
Iruka shook his head disapprovingly, fury clear on his face. "Surely you don't mean that."  
"I never say anything I do not mean, Iruka-sensei."  
"Kakashi-sensei is right," Naruto said at last. Slowly, the tense and physically petrified teen lifted up to reveal a face riddled with emotions. All that turmoil, all that frustration Kakashi saw. Naruto gladly surrendered his inner demons, for just a moment, to award Iruka's efforts with a small, strained smile. "Thanks, Iruka," he swallowed deeply.  
"Any time," Iruka said, his own smile equally troubled at the corners of his lips. He patted Naruto on the shoulder one last time and allowed him to rise from his seat. Naruto's usual exuberance all but lay flat on the floor, dead, accompanied with sagging shoulders and a low gaze.  
"I should get some rest, and take a shift tomorrow," Naruto said.  
"Are you sure?" Iruka asked, standing. "I'm sure you, of all people, would be allowed to...see Tsunade's body, if you wanted."  
"Not even Naruto is allowed access to a Hokage's body, no matter how close he was. Human error can still occur, Iruka-sensei."  
"That's not a fact I need be reminded of, Kakashi-sensei."  
"It'll be alright, Iruka-sensei," Naruto cut in, addressing the man with some semblance of affection. "I can wait, but I know that if I don't get sleep now I'll be no use to anyone come tomorrow!" he smiled sadly.  
"If you're sure..." Iruka was not convinced, Kakashi could tell. He would have chucked it up to Iruka being his usual clingy, over-protective self, but Kakashi felt the same tremors of doubt. Just when the death toll couldn't possibly get any higher, one of Konoha's most prominent and most influential figures fell just months after the last great battle against Madara, Danzou and the Kyuubi. Friends and former classmates of Naruto's had fallen, as well as civilians the blonde had never met. Naruto took every death to heart, even though his go-getter never stop mentality concealed his deep-rooted pains like a veil dressed over a stab wound. It was suffocating; becoming too much.  
"I just need sleep," Naruto insisted. "I might even visit Sakura before heading home. She and Tsunade were really close, and she's been in disbelief since..." Naruto paused, staring off into space. Kakashi didn't make a sound or move a muscle and neither did Iruka, watching their former student sink into an unfortunate memory. "Goodnight, Iruka-sensei. Goodnight, Kakashi-sensei," Naruto addressed them with good humor and, just like that, he was gone in a puff of smoke.  
When the smoke of Naruto's jutsu cleared, Kakashi found himself staring eye-to-eye with Iruka who stood momentarily frazzled. He noticed the long hard stare Kakashi bestowed upon him and felt the familiar crimson heat flush against his cheeks, spreading over the horizontal scar on his nose. "Tea?" he offered, moving into his kitchen area.  
"Sure," Kakashi replied, following Iruka with his gaze.  
The chunin walked with fluid motions, his home so familiar to him that Kakashi wouldn't be surprised if Iruka could navigate his way with his eyes closed. Kakashi felt foreign to his own apartment; didn't feel the sense of security he thought he should. True his kitchen, his bathroom, his bedroom, his living room, his door, and even his windows came with their own specialized jutsu that needed to be dismantled every time he came home, but because Kakashi spent more time on the field and less time with his own possessions, he was never as relaxed as the man now serving two steaming cups of tea.  
Kakashi didn't understand Iruka. He didn't understand the way the Academy teacher displayed photos of random students on his walls; of Naruto, and terribly drawn stick figures of himself standing in front of the school with the title "Sensei" written in blue. He couldn't understand why Iruka's apartment was always so pleasantly warm, when his own seemed to generate a stale cold air. Kakashi couldn't grasp the comforting autumn colors coating the walls that, no doubt, traveled from the living room and the kitchen, throughout the entire apartment. Trinkets and keepsakes that were not weapons, had nothing to do with being a Shinobi, littered Iruka's spare counters. A few old scrolls hung from the living room walls. Kakashi once asked the man where he acquired evidence of such great jutsus, and was a little taken aback to learn they were gifts from Sandaime.  
Iruka drifted from his kitchen, setting two cups of hot tea down on his coffee table. He sat down on the floor, in that gap between the table and his couch. Kakashi followed suit, sitting on the opposite side of the coffee table. His one visible eye crinkled into a makeshift smile, when Iruka pushed his tea forward. "Here you are, Kakashi-sensei."  
"Thanks." The two drank in silence. Kakashi watched Iruka, a past time he quite enjoyed, while Iruka noticeably fidgeted under his long stare. It was because Iruka fidgeted, scratched the bridge of his nose and shifted his gaze that Kakashi enjoyed watching the chunin. Iruka had all these idiosyncrasies; quirks that he so openly shared to the world. For someone like Kakashi who, when he wasn't engrossed with his Icha Icha series, enjoyed observing other people, Iruka proved himself a perfect subject. "This is good tea," Kakashi commented, sipping through his mask.  
"It's just the regular jasmine tea I always make," Iruka voiced, blushing at the compliment. Kakashi was beginning to think the red twinge of Iruka's face was a permanent hue. He thought if Iruka wanted to be a good ninja, he should invest in a mask like his own.  
"You always make it well, Iruka-sensei."  
"Thank you," Iruka smiled sheepishly. Kakashi smiled again, one of those fake smiles Iruka always confused with a real one. Iruka was too trusting for Kakashi's liking. They continued in their comfortable silence, sipping and pausing simultaneously. It was then Kakashi realized his Shinobi gear was still soaked, and the reason for him being there had already disappeared in a puff of smoke. Still he remained seated, listening to the pouring rain outside Iruka's curtained windows. Iruka looked comfortable, sitting there with his vest lying on the couch. The sleeves of his turtle-neck were rolled up to the middle of his forearms, and his clothes were obviously dry in comparison to Kakashi's. "Kakashi, you're soaking!" Iruka gasped, when he finally noticed the water dripping from Kakashi's untamed mane of silver hair.  
"How observant of you, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi stated sarcastically. Iruka ignored his tone, or just couldn't detect it, and went off towards the hallway Kakashi surmised led to the bathroom and the bedroom. He waited a few seconds, staring at the empty spot where Iruka used to be, until the familiar soft footsteps against Iruka's carpeted floor returned.  
"Here," Iruka said with care, handing Kakashi a large towel. Kakashi took it, not expecting Iruka to linger at his side with his hand outreached. "Maa, do you want it back?"  
"No," Iruka frowned. "Your vest is soaking wet...you could get sick." With a sigh, Kakashi relinquished his vest and felt noticeably more comfortable having done so. Not that he would tell Iruka that. He was ninja, after all, a proud ninja who was use to discomfort. Long grueling missions with nasty ration bars to eat, itchy cloth blankets to drape over oneself on harsh cold nights, the never-ending assault of injuries that never managed to heal properly but constantly needed to be re-wrapped to avoid infection, and the constant inevitability of death... That was Kakashi's life on a daily basis, a life Iruka seemed utterly removed from. Iruka, no doubt, thought something like a wet vest life threatening.  
"You're too kind," Kakashi murmured, watching Iruka hang the green vest over the kitchen counter. He dried himself off to the best of his ability, starting with his hair. He moved down to his covered face and neck, pressing the towel deep into the fabric of his mask.  
"Don't mention it," Iruka chuckled. Kakashi moved to remove his long-sleeved shirt, leaving his muscled arms bare. He padded the dark burgundy towel down his chest and mid-section, met with his own solid form. He reached behind his back and down the front, rubbing the top of his thighs. "Not to be rude, Kakashi-sensei, but even a Shinobi of your caliber can be careless of your own well-being."  
"Hey that's not true," Kakashi frown.  
"Trust me," Iruka looked up and, when he noticed the jounin's sleeved shirt had been removed from the man's body, he froze in surprise. "It's true."  
"I guess I've spent more time with you and Naruto than I originally thought I did," Kakashi shrugged, tossing his wet shirt across the room. Iruka caught it, still wide-eyed and gape mouthed. Iruka's eyes fell to the Anbu tattoo draped vertically down the side of Kakashi's shoulder and quickly turned away, wrenching Kakashi's shirt out over the kitchen sink and laying it out beside the man's vest. He then quietly returned to his seat on the floor. Kakashi's headband remained draped over his implanted eye, his mask was still in tact, and his hair was more disheveled than ever.  
"Would you like me to get you a blanket?" Iruka offered.  
"No, I'm fine," Kakashi replied, "but thanks, anyway." The two returned to a familiar mode, where what should have been considered an awkward get-together was something of a companionable routine. Kakashi couldn't describe what he felt, when in Iruka's presence. He already preferred the man's apartment more than his own, which was probably why he continued to linger long after Naruto's departure.  
Kakashi would never admit it, but he enjoyed Iruka's company: the way the Academy teacher some times went on for hours, talking about his students (old and new), the way he refused to speak a bad word about anyone, even Genma and Anko: two Shinobi Kakashi knew well to infuriate the man more than himself at times. Iruka organized nights where he and Naruto watched movies or engaged in a playful challenge, and Kakashi never managed to turn down Naruto's offer to join them. The way Iruka sometimes lost his temper entertained Kakashi. He loved the chunin's hysterical mood swings, which usually kept him on his feet dodging flying objects. Then Kakashi would recite how Shinobi were trained to keep their emotions in check, and the fun would start all over again. Iruka was a ninja by title, by profession, but certainly not by lifestyle, and Kakashi couldn't figure out whether he appreciated this fact about Iruka or envied the man.  
On late nights like these, had Kakashi not been on a mission, he probably would have found himself in this very spot—dry, while watching Iruka have another go at teaching Naruto the finer points of a Shogi game. As it was, the night was clouded with confusion and helplessness. Naruto had gone to visit Sakura, or had gone home. Other Shinobi joined forces with friends and colleagues or went home to comfort their families, and Kakashi found he didn't want to leave Iruka's side. He didn't want to return to that desolate and lonely apartment just yet.  
Iruka must have sensed his troubling thoughts, or perhaps his defense had fallen to such a pitiful state that even a chunin as blissfully naïve as Iruka could identify the deep creases etched into Kakashi's brow. "Is there something on your mind?" Iruka asked, slowly sipping his tea.  
"No," Kakashi lied, "I was just thinking about Naruto and how he'll handle this." He downed the rest of his tea.  
"Well, I know I can be a bit of a worrier," Iruka blushed. "But you're right. Naruto is a capable Shinobi. Sometimes I forget that he's not that knucklehead ninja I once taught at the Academy," Iruka chuckled softly.  
"You shouldn't baby him the way you do," Kakashi frowned, effectively removing the smile from Iruka's face.  
"Excuse me?"  
"You're too clingy, like a peckish mother hen."  
"And you're a cold-hearted stone," Iruka growled, "and I am not clingy."  
"Alright then," Kakashi hummed, "You're not clingy. You're latched on by the teeth. You treat everything Naruto does as life-threatening."  
"Oooh! Well, I apologize for showing him how much I care for him," Iruka said, his face a palette of anger. This was what Kakashi did not want, not tonight. He knew Iruka to get easily riled up, the man being a buffet of conflicting emotions that lashed out at the slightest provocation. Usually the chunin fought to control his emotional outbursts, much to Kakashi's enjoyment, but on such a serious night it was difficult to watch Iruka and find much joy. "He is hurting right now, and you expect me to abide by some arbitrary Shinobi code?" Iruka slammed a hand against his coffee table, and had Kakashi been any other ninja he would have flinched. Their cups of tea lay discarded, forgotten.  
"Maa, Iruka-sensei, calm down..."  
"No, I will NOT calm down!" Iruka pushed himself from off the floor and proceeded to pace back and forth. Iruka's eyes searched the floor frantically. "Tsunade-sama's dead...she's actually dead." Kakashi understood, in that moment. He watched the smaller man walk back and forth behind the coffee table, his frustration no longer burning into Kakashi's skull. Iruka must have put his own grief aside to tend to Naruto, the jounin figured. It would explain this sudden, pent-up anger. Iruka wasn't really made at him but at the situation. "I thought—I mean, we all thought Tsunade-sama was going to survive this. Everyone thought the worse was over; Konoha couldn't possibly fall into worse shape. Now everything Tsunade-sama represented, the rebirth of our village, will fall apart. But the worst part in all of this is I know Naruto! I know he's blaming himself right now, for something beyond his control, and you want to tell me not to comfort him?" Okay, maybe Iruka was mad at him. "How dare you!"  
"IRUKA!" Kakashi had long since moved to Iruka's side by the time the chunin finished his rant. He placed his gloved hands on Iruka's shoulders, stopping the shorter man mid-step. "Calm down," Kakashi repeated with an alarming amount of softness in his tone. This time his demand held more weight to it, and Iruka did indeed calm down. The Academy teacher stopped pacing and allowed his shoulders to go slack beneath Kakashi's firm grip.  
Iruka stared down at his feet. "I'm sorry, Kakashi-sensei," he whispered. "I guess I got carried away."  
"I take it you and Tsunade were rather close," Kakashi found himself smiling sadly, even though Iruka couldn't see it. Iruka nodded slowly. Kakashi found himself reluctantly letting go of his strong grip, unsure as to whether or not the brunette would go into another fit. He brushed his hands down Iruka's shoulders and found himself rubbing small circles there, similar to the kind Iruka afforded Naruto. He was so shocked by such an affectionate act that he quickly let his arms fall to his sides. Iruka didn't appear to notice Kakashi's bewilderment.  
Finally, Iruka looked up again, with that familiar crimson glow on his face. His outburst lie somewhere forgotten, behind the testy teacher. "I know it's late, Kakashi-sensei, and I already put everything in the fridge but, if you'd like, I could heat you up some miso eggplant soup."  
"You made miso eggplant soup?" Kakashi asked in disbelief.  
Iruka nodded. "Yes, and beef ramen, because I know how much Naruto hates eggplant," Iruka chuckled. "But I remember Naruto mentioning some time ago that it was your favorite, and I had a feeling you'd be here looking for Naruto," Iruka explained.  
Kakashi gaped beneath his mask, completely torn between decisions. Be it that time for him to remember having not eaten in three days, not since he received the news of Tsunade's passing. Even then, ration bars just didn't cut it the way miso eggplant soup did. Iruka's cooking was unmatched in perfection and fulfilling, as it had to be in order to satiate Naruto's appetite. Now that Kakashi knew what to smell for, the faint lingering smell of the meals Iruka cooked earlier grated on his senses. Everything...everything was perfect: the room, the lights, the smell, the warmth. Iruka's apartment could easily make anyone forget about death and the unforgiving weather storming into the night outside. "Iruka."  
"Yes?"  
Kakashi swallowed, feeling his Adam's apple rub against the fabric of his mask. "Tsunade-sama is dead," he said out loud, reminding himself more than Iruka. He stepped forward, his steely gray-blue eye searching Iruka for any trace of understanding. The chunin permeated warmth, something that Kakashi's relatively damp body couldn't help but want. Iruka stared at him, not at all unnerved by the close proximity between them. Kakashi didn't understand why he expected Iruka to be unnerved by him. He expected the chunin to revere him, to fear him, as so many of Konoha's Shinobi did. Iruka displayed neither feelings towards the jounin, and Kakashi was confused by how little he cared. He didn't know what he wanted Iruka to feel towards him. "She's dead," he repeated, "and she's never coming back."  
Iruka's eyes, unwaveringly revealing, brimmed with sadness. "I know."  
Kakashi watched Iruka take the strain off his neck where, naturally, the chunin's honest gaze reached the tip of the jounin's chin. Kakashi knew the best course of action would be to flee, leave now before he did something stupid, like, apologize for upsetting Iruka. "I should go," he said, stepping away. Iruka stood vacantly, watching him leave.  
"You're not leaving like that," he said, his authoritative sensei tone coming into play. "You're not wearing a shirt or your gear...you're completely exposed to the elements. Here," Iruka raced off towards his private rooms and returned with a folded long-sleeved Shinobi shirt. He tossed it to Kakashi who caught it thoughtlessly.  
Kakashi stared, amused, as Iruka crossed his arms over his chest and tapped a single bare foot against the floor. He knew the chunin was going to stand there and make sure he put the shirt on, like monitoring an insolent child. Kakashi could have almost chuckled, not at all peeved by Iruka's misplaced concern. He put the shirt on, noticing how it didn't necessarily reach the extent of his abdomen. He would depend on the blue undershirt he always wore to keep him protected from the elements. The sleeves of Iruka's shirt reached only to the middle of his forearms and felt a bit tight. "My you are short, Iruka-sensei," he mused.  
"I'm not that short," Iruka unknowingly pouted. It was another quirk of Iruka's to be unaware of his own facial expressions. Kakashi pulled the wading shirt down, affronted with the scent of evergreen, chalk, and sturdy wood. Of course Iruka's shirt would smell exactly as the chunin did: earthly. Kakashi turned with a two fingered wave in the air. "Not so fast." Kakashi stopped again.  
"Yes, mother?" Kakashi jeered in a low tone.  
"You don't have a vest, Copy Nin. You'll be completely defenseless, won't you...?"  
Kakashi turned to face the chunin again, noting how Iruka hadn't moved from his crossed-arm, foot pounding position. The chunin's face was still etched with annoyance and worry. Kakashi smirked and, with mischief in his eye, advanced on Iruka.  
His swift movements caught the brunette off-guard. No longer did the chunin tap his foot or cross his arms, too focused on the jounin pressing himself against him. Flabbergasted, Iruka stepped back, only to find the back of his knees hit the couch behind him. Slowly, Kakashi reached forward, brushing his hand past Iruka's arm and toward the navy green chunin vest hanging over the armrest. Kakashi pulled up again, amused by the tomato red spreading all the way to Iruka's ears.  
"Uh..." Iruka gaped, watching the jounin put his arms through his vest.  
"Thanks for the borrow, Iruka-sensei." Kakashi zipped himself up, noticing the tightness around his shoulders. Not that Shinobi uniforms were one size fit all, but he didn't expect Iruka's clothes to fit him so terribly. It then occurred to him that he was actually wearing Iruka's clothing.  
"Don't mention it," the chunin mumbled. "I should go with you, you know. You need a team," Iruka frowned, his tone serious.  
Kakashi shook his head. "No, you stay here." Kakashi readjusted Iruka's vest. "You shouldn't worry about me...I've got a team." In light of Iruka's confusion, Kakashi ripped open his thumb and slammed the palm of his hand against the floor. He looked up just in time to see and hear Iruka roll his eyes and sigh with recollection.  
"You're cleaning up the dog hair," Iruka smiled challengingly. Suddenly eight dogs, all different shapes and sizes, bustled about Iruka's living room and accosted him with one great simultaneous pounce. Iruka fell flat on his behind, trying with earnest to pet every dog with equal time and attention.  
"Iruka-sensei! Iruka-sensei!" barked a golden-brown dog; the one who reminded Iruka of Naruto so much. It could have something to do with the whiskers across his cheeks, his Cheshire grin, or the permanent look of mischief on the dog's face. He licked Iruka cross the cheek and circled around a few times.  
"Hello, Guruko," Iruka laughed. When the dogs began to protest, each one trying to steal his attention away with a lick or brush against his stomach, Iruka decided to name them off as a collective greeting. "Hello Shiba, hello Urushi, hello Akino, hello Uhei, hello Bisuke, hello Bull." Bull grunted, strolling over to rest against Iruka's back.  
"Yo, Iruka!" Pakkun called out, finally revealing his bored expression among his brethren. He perched himself on Iruka's lap, pushing his paws into the chunin's thighs. "Long time no see."  
"Hey, Pakkun," Iruka smiled broadly.  
"You got any food?" the pug asked.  
"FOOD!" Guruko cried, sending the other dogs into a tizzy. "Kakashi doesn't feed us!" Guruko wailed out amongst the barks and howls.  
"Hey, what are you trying to say? Get off him," Kakashi pulled Guruko up by the shirt. "We've got work to do."  
"But I wanna stay here," Guruko whimpered, clawing towards the chunin on the floor. Iruka stared at him with a sad smile. Guruko wasn't the only one of his ninken clinging to Iruka's side, making pitiful sounds and complaining about not having eaten in days. To make matters worse, Iruka was giving in to their spoiled behavior, rubbing bellies and scratching ears. Kakashi sneered in disgust, watching his finest soldier dogs cuddle up into Iruka's embrace. He regretted having ever let them out during the reconstruction process, where they met and fell in love with the Academy teacher. His own dogs liked Iruka more than him.  
"What's up, Kakashi?" Pakkun asked, turning around. He felt a pair of fingers reach for an itch behind his ear and practically melted. The pug stared at Kakashi, challenging, and for the life of him Kakashi felt an uneasy sense of jealousy crawl under his skin. Pakkun sighed deeply while drinking in the pampering Kakashi never let anyone get close enough to give him. "You're amazing, youngin'," Pakkun grinned, his eyes closed.  
"You're welcome," Iruka sighed, smiling.  
"Play time's over," Kakashi said sternly, nudging his dogs with his foot.  
"What's the mission this time," Pakkun asked, unmoved. Iruka petted him without much thought, waiting on Kakashi's every word.  
"We have lookout duty," Kakashi stated slowly. "The Godaime is dead." Eight wet noses shot into the air, and Iruka paused in his mindless ministrations. Kakashi saw the alert understanding in his ninken and collectively awarded them a curt nod. "You know the drill." His dogs leaped their feet, quickly forming groups of two. Kakashi set Guruko on the floor, and his most rambunctious K-nine fell in line. "Akino and Guruko," a mustered yellow dog wearing round sunglasses nodded his head, "you two take the front gates. Shiba and Bisuke," a burgundy dog with a brown tuft of hair on his head and a smaller dog with raccoon eyes nodded, "I want you two to keep me informed on all of Konoha's underground passageways. "Urushi and Uhei," a wild-eyed gray dog and a field dog with its long neck taped over nodded, "you two keep surveillance over the market places." Kakashi lifted his arm into the air, signaling their dismissal. Kakashi then looked down towards Bull. The big dog refused to move from under Iruka's warm body, but listened in on Kakashi's orders. "Bull, you're coming with me. We'll monitor the outskirts."  
"You got it, boss," Bull grumbled. He looked to Iruka appreciatively. "Do you mind, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka's eyes grew wide with understanding. "Not at all," he muttered, lifting forward so Bull could climb from under him. The big black dog turned around and gave Iruka one giant lick across the cheek, before walking over to Kakashi. Iruka looked like a fool, all smiles, and Kakashi was strangely annoyed.  
"Hey boss, what about me?" Pakkun asked, jumping from Kakashi's lap.  
Kakashi looked to Pakkun cheerfully. "You can look after Iruka-sensei."  
"Whaa?" Pakkun and Iruka chorused, equally baffled.  
"I don't need to be looked after!"  
"But that's such a boring mission, boss!"  
"Who are you calling boring?"  
"Oh… not you, Iruka," Pakkun playfully reassured. "I love you..." the pug brushed his head up against Iruka's chest, hopefully easing the anger growing inside the chunin. Iruka slowly released the hold on his hips, petting Pakkun wearily.  
"I guess we can cook you up something to eat," Iruka wagered.  
Pakkun nodded his head vigorously. "Yes; that will do it!"  
"I'm hungry too," Bull frowned.  
"Don't worry," Iruka said with a gentle smile. "I'll make sure to cook for you as well. I'll make a meal for all of you, since your master feels so inclined to starve you." Kakashi brushed a hand through his hair, his murderous stare going completely ignored.  
"Bull," the dog nodded, "let's go." With one final glance and a curt nod, Kakashi was off with Bull in toe. The moment he left the comfort of Iruka's home, he quickly regretted it. It rained harder than ever outside, and every now and then a quick flash of lightning could be seen, and the distant roar of thunder could be heard.  
Kakashi knelt upon the roof of Iruka's apartment, gauging the proximity of his ninken and fellow Shinobi about, out guarding the night. Below him remained two familiar signatures of chakra: Pakkun and Iruka. A few yards away he felt Naruto's slow circulating chakra, as the boy slumbered. He searched for Sakura's chakra and the small recessive amount permeating from her parents. There was one last chakra, one last lingering signature that Kakashi rather pretend did not exist.  
Then there was the absence of chakra that struck Kakashi with the pain of a loyal soldier. It was all encompassing, leaving one born to Konoha with that hollow feeling that never truly went away; no matter how many Hokage deaths one lived to witness. Kakashi had already witnessed three deaths out of five, and the reign of the Fourth and the Fifth ended much too soon.  
This made the jounin think about Naruto, again, and how he longed to be Hokage. Would he last any longer?  
Naruto wasn't too far from his goal. The village already respected him, admired him. He saved the lives of thousands from Pain's attack. He stood against Madara, and convinced Sasuke Uchiha to turn himself in. His execution date was pending. Kakashi silently cursed him self, having promised himself he wouldn't think about that.  
Things were just starting to play out in Naruto's favor. Then, all too suddenly, the villages' adoration once again turned into passionate hatred towards the container of the Nine-tails. Danzou let loose his ability to release the Kyuubi, and the beast reeked havoc on the village. The Kyuubi no longer resided within Naruto as he, Kakashi, Yamato, and Sasuke fought to annihilate it. Still, despite all his efforts, Naruto struggled to gain the approval of the village.  
Kakashi sighed, standing. He looked to Bull again, but the dog had busied himself with sniffing about Iruka's rooftop. "Oi," Kakashi scoffed. Bull turned his head, moving towards his master.  
"I'm smellin' something out of place, boss," he sniffed, and sniffed and sniffed, until he was brushing his nose up against Kakashi's leg. He stuck his nose into Kakashi's gloved hand, nipped at the man's sleeve, and huffed. "You smell like Iruka-sensei, boss," Bull stated matter-of-factly.  
"Yeah, I know," Kakashi scratched the back of his head. "Likewise, Bull..."  
"I like it." Bull stepped back, a gruff smile on his face.  
"I'm so glad you approve." The two set off for the outskirts of Konoha, leaving Kakashi no choice but to leave thoughts of Iruka and his apartment behind him.  
But little did Kakashi know that somewhere, deep within the inner workings of Konoha, the Late Tsunade was not the only subject up for discussion that night. As Kakashi set out, with thoughts of his duty taking front and center, Konoha Elders and higher-ups—influential figures, congregated for a secret meeting to decide which Shinobi would be most suited for the privilege and title of Hokage.  
The first name to fall from everyone's lips was none other than Hatake Kakashi.  
Chapter One  
Konoha's elite: Individuals, who believed themselves the foundation of an entire nation, took seat among a long marble table. The bulk of their number, twelve, were an average age of seventy; elderly men and women who likened themselves to that of gods who controlled the inner workings of Konoha. If the greatly ambitious, the self-serving, or more undermining of their numbers were in control, then their reign over Konoha would have been swift and never-ending. All thoughts of maintaining a republic, lead by a Hokage, would lay forgotten. But, fortunately, the Konoha Council was facilitated and lead by only two individuals: one man and one woman, who truly felt they had only Konoha's best interest in mind…  
The two remaining limbs of Team Tobirama, Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado, took their appropriate seats at each end of the table, and everyone else quickly followed suit. Lady Utatane, with her graying hair pulled back into a respectable bun, lifted a graceful hand into the air. Such a subtle signal effectively silenced all small talk. Elder Mitokado moved his own hand as well, if only to readjust the thick-rimmed glasses below his brow.  
"This meeting shall commence," Lady Utatane stated, her strong voice amplified. They were in the lower chamber, just below the Hokage tower. Almost another realm of existence, the chamber room never saw anyone other than the Hokage, the Interrogation Force, and the Konoha Council. Supported by cylinder beams of marble that reached a grand height and ended in a dome-shaped ceiling, the chamber room was considered a myth by civilians and even some Shinobi. But it was real, just as magnificent and marvelous as any structure above ground. One could count themselves lucky to never find themselves being lead into Konoha's underground chamber, as the large, vacant room was utilized for only two reasons: meetings or executions.  
When the whispers died down and the echoes grew too weak to bounce off the rocky walls, Elder Mitokado stood to address his fellow peers. "There isn't a member here who isn't aware of why we called for this urgent meeting," he began, eyeing each side of the table. "The Godaime is dead, leaving Konoha in a state of peril."  
This claim drove the group into a storm of grumbles and sour faces. "Enough!" Lady Utatane called, and the room receded into silence once more.  
"Konoha is a grand nation, the foundation of the Fire Country, and I will have served my purpose to the end before I live to suffer through its decline."  
"What are you talking about?" protested a rather portly member sporting two chins and a pair of squinty eyes. "Konoha is stronger than ever!"  
"I agree!" cried out a shrill voice. "We have seen the worst of it," she said shrewdly, "and, thanks to our endurance and our finest Shinobi, we have come out stronger than ever!"  
"Do not let our victory over Danzou and the Kyuubi blind you with misplaced confidence," Elder Mitokado cut in. "Konoha still lies in a state of wreckage. Even our Hokage Monument, which has been a symbol of Konoha's strength for centuries, has been destroyed. We've sent out small numbers of Shinobi to complete missions, due to our escalating need for manpower here at home. To save face, we continue to do so. The war began with our own and ended here, at our doorsteps. To rebuild ourselves," Elder Mitokado said firmly, "we have shown our greatest weakness: our pride."  
Members of the council, who would have made a fuss otherwise, fell silent.  
"We could manage this indignity, for however long it took to return to our superior greatness, so long as other countries knew that a powerful leader was at the helm, protecting the village."  
"There is no such person, not anymore," said the fat man, emitting a lethally low chuckle. "Tsunade-sama was the last of the Legendary Three…there's no one in our village who can generate as much respect and admiration as that." He slowly stood. "I propose we become a military government; show that we are not weak by threatening other countries with the brute force of our collective mind. Let us show that we are willing to go to war, before being blinded by diplomacy."  
"If Konoha wanted to become a military state, Hurasu, then Danzou would have been chosen as the Sandaime and not Hiruzen Sarutobi." Her gaze narrowed threateningly, as Lady Utatane readied herself to defend her fallen friend and former teammate, if need be.  
The man called Hurasu shrugged, "Maybe Konoha has changed its mind."  
"Turning Konoha into a military state is not an option," Elder Mitokado growled, finality in his tone. He stared Hurasu down with a cold glare, forcing the bigger man back into his seat. He addressed the council once more, "Members of this great council, what we need now is a new leader. The mourning of Lady Tsunade shall go on for weeks, but we can not allow our ethics to cloud our logic. We need to elect an immediate replacement, and not just anyone."  
"And who would you suggest," Hurasu sneered. "You obviously have someone in mind; otherwise, you wouldn't be so adamant. Let me guess…it's that Kyuubi boy isn't it."  
"The one who saved us from Pein?" said the shrewd woman with the shrill voice.  
"He might have saved us from Pein, but he nearly brought out the complete destruction of Konoha because of that demon inside of him!" voiced another nameless member. Soon the table went up in a roaring chorus of complaints, until Lady Utatane pulled a leather switch from beneath her robes and proceeded to slap the table.  
"Settle down! Quiet now…or we'll never get anything done," she said. The ten rowdy council members settled back into their seats. "Uzumaki Naruto is not the Shinobi we have in mind," she said lowly.  
"Is that so?"  
Lady Utatane gave Hurasu the evil eye. "Shut up, you great blubbering swine." Hurasu obediently zipped his lips. "Uzumaki has certainly proven he is worthy of the title, yet the stigma that is brought on by his name does not help to elevate the village but, instead, promotes distrust. We cannot control a village that does not trust their government. Furthermore, Uzumaki is too young and inexperienced and needs time to prove his capability to lead."  
"Lady Utatane is right," Elder Mitokado agreed. "In the past, our opinions have not been entirely favorable of the boy. Still, we are not going to elect someone out of desperation, without considering the consequences of our choices," he paused, gauging his peers once more. "The Shinobi I nominate to replace Tsunade as the Sixth Hokage is Hatake Kakashi."  
"You mean, son of the White Fang?" Hurasu asked.  
Elder Mitokado nodded, "The very same. He is a genius among his peers, having graduated the Academy at age five, made chunin at age six, and jounin at thirteen. He is a classified member of Anbu and is well versed in the responsibilities of a team leader. He has seen all sides of war, is highly experienced and is famously known throughout the ninja world as the Copy Nin. He is feared as greatly as he is admired, and has played a pivotal role that helped Konoha defeat its enemies, in this war as well as the last." Elder Mitokado stopped, only having to listen to the small impressed grumbles to know that the members of the Konoha Council were convinced. "He is a child prodigy; a student of the Yandaime. He then studied under the legendary Jiraiya-sama, and he served as Uzumaki Naruto's jounin mentor." Another collective sigh of approval could be heard.  
"…You mean that disheveled looking young man who walks around Konoha with his head stuck in Jiraiya-sama's filthy novels?"  
Elder Mitokado breathed a grave sigh. "He has his vices," he frowned.  
"If I recall correctly, Tsunade-sama's alcoholism and gambling debt did nothing to skew her abilities as Hokage," Lady Utatane bit in.  
"Hatake-san sounds like the young blood we need to rejuvenate the village," said one member. Another one agreed. Soon both sides of the table had nothing but positive words to say about the silver-headed jounin.  
"I remember his father…he was a respectable man!" cried their oldest member.  
For a council that rarely thought for themselves and agreed on whatever logical plan of action made the most sense, Elder Mitokado had practically handed them a decision on a silver platter. Now the name Hatake fell from their lips as frequently as exhaled air, more often than Elder Mitokado could recall happening in decades. He recalled how many of the very same members in his presence persecuted Sakumo Hatake for disregarding Shinobi code. Now, at the prospect of returning Konoha to its former glory, they all but bounced in their seats to promote his son to that of Hokage.  
"All in favor of electing Hatake Kakashi, son of Hatake Sakumo, as the Sixth Hokage, please stand." Everyone, with the exception of Hurasu, shot into the air, which was a bit disquieting, considering their frail and aging bodies.  
Hurasu slowly sidled out of his seat. "Do whatever ya want; I don't care. I'm tired and I want to go home already."  
"So do you agree that electing Hatake as our Sixth Hokage is the best course of action?"  
"Yes!" Hurasu hissed, waddling away.  
"It is decided then!" Lady Utatane announced. The council quickly dispersed, as each member was eager to return to well furnished dens and roasting fires, in the comfort of their own compounds.  
Elder Mitokado walked out, closely followed by Lady Utatane. An air of accomplishment followed their every step. It had been their plan, all along, to nominate Hatake-san as the Sixth Hokage. Before the war, however, Danzou's self-lead election named him Hokage, and the permanent impression he made amongst the other Kages at the Kage Summit was something of an embarrassment to both the village and the elders.  
"We've done well by Sarutobi-san," Lady Utatane said simply.  
"Yes, we have," Elder Mitokado agreed.

Iruka's flat was just as warm as Kakashi remembered it being when he left. It was mind boggling to the jounin, who understood stark, cold nights like this to turn his whole apartment into his own personal meat locker. He climbed in through Iruka's window this time, not to refrain from disturbing the chunin but, if Iruka had fallen asleep, Kakashi didn't want the younger man yelling at him until his ears jumped off and deserted him.  
He found Iruka and Pakkun both sprawled out over the couch, just as he expected to. He surmised the chunin must have turned in shortly after he left, turning off all lights, while leaving stump of a candle to burn on top of the coffee table. Their tea cups had been removed. A wool blanket draped itself over the man whose skin glowed under the scrutiny of a single orange flame.  
Kakashi made his way towards the couch and scoffed at the pitiful sight before him. Iruka slept restlessly, as half the blanket dipped over the couch, revealing a limp arm and leg. Pakkun slept at the base of Iruka's neck, with his belly out and extending with every breath. The pug looked like a stuck pig, and he was snoring too. This did nothing to discourage Iruka's heavy slumber, as the man lightly drooled, a permanent grin of stupidity slapped across his face. From the position of his left arm, scrunched up against the inside of the couch, and the direction at which Pakkun slept, it was clear Iruka had belly rubbed Pakkun to sleep.  
"You spoiled mutt."  
"Wha-uh?" Pakkun instantly sprang to life, flipping over with little difficulty. He did find it troubling to balance on all fours, and finally managed to stand in the gap between Iruka's head and raised arm. It took little to no time whatsoever to identify his master's voice. "I'll have you know I'm a purebred pug and not a mutt, thank you very much," he muttered out into the general direction of Kakashi's voice. One round eye popped open, followed by the other, both falling on the jounin.  
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Kakashi asked in a biting tone, hovering over the couch.  
"Very much so, thanks."  
Kakashi shook his head. "You spoiled mutt," he sneered, repeating his earlier misconception.  
Pakkun shrugged. "You told me to stay here, boss."  
"I was trying to annoy you."  
"Why would that annoy me?" Pakkun asked, immediately snuggling up against the nape of Iruka's neck. Kakashi watched as the chunin stirred, slowly shaking his head. Then he lay motionless once more. His hair flowed freely down his scalp, framing his face with limp stray locks. The jounin took in the image, since it was a rare sight to see Iruka's hair down. He usually kept it in a ponytail. Kakashi figured it served the chunin well, to keep his neat, prim and proper image. Now, under the spell of sleep, the absence of a hair band took the strain away from Iruka's face. He appeared more relaxed when asleep than he ever did awake. There were no screeching, impish children running up and down classrooms with small sharp objects in their hands, no lawless jounin—yours truly included—sauntering into the mission room with a cocky grin and a bad attitude, and no blur of black and orange, however lovingly, jumping over his shoulders with static energy. No... Kakashi imagined night induced sleep was quite a peaceful element to Iruka's, otherwise, lively and restless days.  
He thought he might like to know what dreams Iruka experienced to leave him so utterly open to an enemy attack. Kakashi, always, slept with a kunai beneath his pillow. Iruka slept with hair in his face and dribble down the corner of his lips.  
"I know it's difficult for someone of your disposition to trust humanity, Kakashi," Pakkun circled around, finding that perfectly cushioned spot near Iruka's head to plop down on. With his eyelids more than halfway closed, he stared at his master. "Even a dog would know that the company of another human is far better than some trashy novel." The pug lowered his head to rest on his two front paws.  
Kakashi leaned forward, shoving his face into Pakkun's flat, smug one. "I think I fair just fine."  
"As do I," Pakkun closed his eyes, "with food in my belly and Iruka in my charge."  
"I was trying to bore you," Kakashi said abruptly.  
"Why would Iruka bore me?" Pakkun grumbled.  
Kakashi rolled his eye. "What could the two of you possibly talk about?"  
"You two are awfully loud," mumbled a softer tone. Kakashi turned his gaze and met equally tired eyes. Iruka blinked until his eyes completely fluttered open. Kakashi didn't pull away, as he initially thought to, taking in the dark brown pool of Iruka's irises. From this distance, he could see the cleanliness of his scar, one even line that barely even marred the chunin's features. Iruka exhaled, pressing the warm air against the barrier of Kakashi's mask.  
His shoulders relaxed, withering upon the couch.  
"Kakashi-sensei?" he gasped, frazzled by their close proximity. Kakashi ignored the man's discomfort, noting how the man had fallen asleep in his blue Shinobi attire. He pressed one of his hands against the back of the couch, leaning in just a bit closer. He was studying Iruka, he knew, examining the creamy olive skin evenly coating the younger man's body. It was flawless, or, seemingly so, since a hue of that shade could easily disguise a lot of scar tissue. But there was absolutely nothing ghastly about Iruka's skin, not even the smallest scrape caused by the smallest sharp object.  
Pakkun lifted one flapping ear, watching Kakashi out of the corner of one drooping eye.  
Iruka didn't even have the skin of a Shinobi, just one inexplicable scar across his nose. Kakashi inwardly scoffed and pulled away. Iruka pushed against the couch to rest on his elbows. He looked past the jounin, ignoring him completely, to scan the empty living room.  
"You should wear your hair down more often," Kakashi suddenly said when Iruka brushed a few strands of brown hair behind his ear.  
Iruka shrugged. "It would get in my face if I did that," he sniffed lightly, "and I teach young children who wouldn't think twice about pulling my hair."  
"Couldn't be that bad," Kakashi shrugged, his voice escaping at a low and even pitch. It was late, he thought to himself. It was late, dark, and warm, with the only source of light painting the room being a dark iron red. Having spent all night being vigilant and alert, jumping off rooftops and tree branches, the stillness of Iruka's apartment calmed his flailing nerves. He didn't feel the need to trace his steps and watch his back, not here. It was a paradox, the chunin and his residence, as Iruka himself slept defenselessly.  
"It could get pretty bad, Kakashi-sensei," Iruka grinned, wiping his hand over his mouth.  
"Afraid some brat might try and cut it off with a plastic kunai," Kakashi said jokingly.  
Iruka was not equally amused, judging from the frown taking hold of his features. "I put my hair up, Kakashi-sensei, because it is the professional thing to do. A Shinobi can't properly perform his duties when his hair is obscuring his vision. I thought a Shinobi of your…disposition could appreciate that fact."  
Warm brown eyes met cold gray.  
"Okay," Kakashi stepped back, kneeling against the armrest at the other end of the couch.  
Iruka sat up now, rubbing his eyes. His face fell when he scanned his living room again and, apparently, felt something was amiss. "Where are they?" he asked Kakashi. "Where are the dogs?"  
"They are ninken," Kakashi corrected, turning his head. He quickly shoved his thumb and index finger into his mouth to produce one single solid whistle. The faintest rumble of roving paws could be heard before seven dogs appeared in a puff of smoke, standing in the middle of Iruka's living room. Bull sat at the front.  
"I got 'em together, boss," he grouched out, before sauntering towards the couch. His brothers followed, all moving with quiet grace, accosting Iruka with tired tongue-hanging smiles and hopeful eyes. Iruka feigned a soft sigh, lifting his legs over the side of the couch. "What am I going to do with all of you," he said playfully, welcoming each dog with a gentle pat on the head. "Are you hungry?"  
Kakashi's ninken nodded their heads vigorously, like greedy beggars. He watched them circle around Iruka's feet and follow the younger man into the kitchen. Iruka flipped the switch, and a pool of fur and blue shirts, all with the same emblem on their backs, stood attentive and waiting. Iruka moved about with a faint smile on his face, taking food from the stove and bowls from the cabinets, filling them, before setting them down on the floor.  
"Thanks, Iruka-sensei!" Guruko piped up, licking the palm of Iruka's hand. He then shoved his face into his food.  
"Phank kou, Uka-sensei," Shiba said, his mouth already stuffed. Iruka bent low and rubbed down fur coats bristling with trapped water. Iruka chuckled, but for what reason Kakashi couldn't come across. There was nothing funny about a bunch of rambunctious, rain-drenched ninken. Every now and then one would shiver and shake, spraying Iruka with drops of rain, and the chunin feeding them still went to pet them.  
"Kakashi-sensei?" Kakashi jerked at the sound of Iruka's voice, unaware of having fixed his eyes on Iruka and his ninken. He was tired, that's all…much too tired. It was early morning now, somewhere between midnight and dawn. Kakashi hadn't slept for three days straight. He certainly didn't sleep the way Iruka did, as though nothing else mattered. He even failed to see how preparing oneself for a surprise attack constituted as nothing. He might have felt sorry for Pakkun, for leaving the pug here, if he didn't know him to be quite the proficient little fighter. That must be why he told him to watch Iruka, because Iruka was too simple-minded to watch over himself.  
"Mm?" Kakashi hummed, fighting off the preliminary tug of sleep.  
"I still have that pot of miso eggplant soup. Would you like me to heat that up for you?"  
With unspoken gratitude, Kakashi downed two bowls of the miso eggplant soup Iruka had offered him earlier that evening. It tasted good, heavenly even, to the point where Kakashi wanted to savor it instead of gulping it down fast enough to replace his mask. With a blush Iruka excused himself, saying something about getting a few towels for the dogs, which was good because Kakashi really wanted to revel in the taste of every serving. He managed four bowls before Iruka returned with seven identical towels, stacked up and obscuring the younger man's face. He was glad Iruka couldn't see the indignity of it all, how he was practically beside himself with relief, beside his dogs eating as they did. A pair of chopsticks lay forgotten on the counter.  
"Not bad," he uttered, putting his bowl in the sink. He walked away, when Iruka moved into the kitchen and stared between the empty bowl in the sink and the empty pot on the stove.  
"I'm glad you liked it," he said, bewildered.  
Kakashi scanned the room, searching with one eye. "Where are my clothes?"  
"I washed your vest and shirt—they're in the bathroom. I hung them out to dry, so they wouldn't get mildew," was Iruka's simple response, as he bustled about the kitchen.  
Kakashi crossed his arms. "What about my scrolls, my weapons?"  
"There on top of the desk." Kakashi looked just to the side of Iruka's living room window, where he saw his gear spread out in categorical order. Packs of kunai, shurikens, and other various devices of death lay in neat rows, separate from scrolls and dispatches. Kakashi looked between the desk and the man that owned it, but Iruka had long since busied himself with cleaning up after the four-legged freeloaders on his kitchen floor. Repacking his vest made sense to Kakashi, until he remembered he wasn't wearing his clothes.  
"Damn," he muttered to himself, trying to peel the tight piece of clothing from over his shoulders. He pulled from behind, with little success, before trying to take it off from over his shoulders simultaneously. Kakashi sighed again and changed his course of action, never believing a simple green vest could become his mortal enemy. He fumbled again, as the length of his arms out-approximated the length of the jacket, and his grip slipped. Before he knew it, Kakashi was turning in semi-circles, battling to pull off a simple piece of Shinobi wear. All the while, Iruka stood with one hand on his waist, watching the tragic jounin with an amused smirk on his lips.  
Kakashi heard the distant clatter of dishes under the pressure of running water, and was glad the chunin was too preoccupied to notice how he struggled. "The funeral is tomorrow." Iruka's voice reached over the sound of rushing water.  
"I figured as much, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi grunted.  
"The Elders say they have a final announcement to make when the ceremony is over." Iruka watched Kakashi intently, trying not to laugh at how the jounin chased his own tail, of sorts, to take off his vest. "Will you be there to hear it?"  
"Why wouldn't I be, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka shrugged, putting the clean bowls on the rack. "Your penchant for being absent during momentous occasions is as legendary as yourself."  
"Have you been checking my file, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Never." Kakashi was close to completing his task, if he could call it that. Just when he thought he'd defeated his valiant foe, he found himself cursing his bad luck again. This was difficult, more difficult than it should have been. Perhaps it was because of his hands, hands that felt stricken with acute hypothermia. His fingerless gloves did nothing to provide a firm grip; neither did the subtle jerks in his wrists. The grooves beneath his short fingernails were packed with dirt, and the pads of his fingers had pruned long ago. His hands slipped, still wet, and fumbled with every aggressive tug. "Are you alright, Kakashi-sensei?"  
"I'm just," Kakashi turned on his heel, mentally stunned to find Iruka staring up at him, "fine."  
"You're going to rip the seams." Iruka frowned, shoving Kakashi's hands out of the way. Kakashi frowned as well, but found his arms too heavy to protest. They fell to his sides, like two concrete stones; like the rubble he and his fellow Shinobi found themselves excavating through on a daily basis. When Iruka raised his hands, Kakashi flinched, causing the younger man to step back. Iruka's movements were too quick for his liking. He furrowed his browed, staring him down with frustration. Iruka, to his credit, didn't back away. The pupils of his eyes were dilated, which meant the man was relaxed, undaunted by Kakashi's initial response to strike him down. "I'm not the enemy," he said.  
"I know," Kakashi responded, with his fight or flight reflexes receding. "It's your damn vest." Iruka stepped forward, blushing faintly. He was always blushing, Kakashi noted…always. Maybe it was a disorder, he thought, or a skin condition. Despite the creamy dark hue of Iruka's skin tone, a recessive pigmentation trait caused translucency around the nose and cheek areas.  
Kakashi didn't normally stand this close to someone, unless under the intent to kill. If this was a mission, or anyone else for that matter, Iruka's eyes would have long ago glazed over with pain, and Kakashi would be holding his sharpest kunai with a firm grip. Iruka would sputter, as the blood dribbled down the corner of his mouth, and Kakashi would be twisting his weapon deep into the man's gut, ever so slowly. All around them, a pitch black terrain. Only the dark outline of the forest trees, the dirt in the air, the dry blood on their clothes, and the dead in Iruka's eyes magnified amongst the backdrop of a dawning horizon. "Allow me, Kakashi-sensei."  
Kakashi blinked, returning to a present state of reality. Iruka's grip was feather light, tugging at the shoulders of the vest. To his complete and utter dislike, Kakashi let Iruka gently pull the garment down, with his arms bent and trailing down his back. He couldn't possibly be in his right mind, Kakashi thought, his eyes never leaving Iruka's gaze. He was tired, he'd established, and worn from his travels. He was underfed and physically drained by the wear and tear of his aborted mission. Had he been at the peak of his physical and mental capabilities, surely he would not allow Iruka anywhere near his person.  
"See?" Iruka tilted his head, smiling. "Was that so difficult?"  
"You weren't wearing it," Kakashi sighed and was glad Iruka couldn't see the small pout being shrouded by his mask. Holding on to whatever pride was left in his tired body, Kakashi crossed his arms and pulled at the hem of Iruka's sleeved shirt. It submitted to his aggressive man-handling, fearing that the jounin might rip it from his body in order to defeat it. Kakashi felt his muscles stretch and move in his efforts, and he was glad to find that his arms did indeed still work. He almost chuckled, immediately relieved by the strain off his shoulders. "I doubt I'll be borrowing anymore of your clothes, Iruka-sensei, unless you prefer them stretched or ripped," Kakashi mused, pulling the second piece of clothing over his head. "But, if comes to it, you can certainly borrow mine."  
"I don't think it'll ever come to that, Kakashi-sensei," Iruka muttered, diverting his gaze. Kakashi's brow furrowed, confused. He then noticed the way Iruka's eyes shifted, horizontally, from the center of his chest to the fire red Anbu tattoo on his arm.  
"Maa…is there something wrong?" Kakashi pressed.  
Iruka's eyes shot to his face, fearless. "I shouldn't have seen that, now or before," he explained, and Kakashi knew what 'that' meant. "It's against the law. I don't have the clearance or the status, and I'm not a family member; I can be persecuted for knowing you're a member of Anbu."  
"I hardly think it matters," Kakashi shrugged. "Haven't been on a special op mission in some time."  
"Once an Anbu always an Anbu, Kakashi-sensei."  
"Mm…you worry too much, Iruka-sensei."  
"So I've been told," the Academy teacher replied through gritted teeth. Kakashi smiled cheekily, with his one visible eye.  
"Are my clothes dry?" Kakashi asked.  
Iruka stepped away, "I can go check."  
"Don't bother," he grumbled. Kakashi stepped towards the desk again, counting his many well-kept possessions when he noticed a rather unconventional orange, paperback work of literature had gone missing among his items. Just as any sudden thought that dealt with the absence of a loved object, Kakashi padded himself down, expecting one of Jiraiya's finest works to suddenly appear on his person. "Where…?"  
"Is something wrong, Kakashi-sensei?"  
The jounin looked back, his face a stone of seriousness. "Where's my book?"  
Iruka's eyes grew wide, an innocent smile on his face. "You mean that dog-eared piece of filth so completely soaked through that even the most detailedparts were running off the page?"  
"Yeah—that one."  
"I threw it out," Iruka answered softly.  
"You what?" Kakashi advanced on the man, as if he'd just admitted to murdering young children. He was so angry, he didn't know what to do with himself, so when he came down on Iruka with what little rage he could muster, he found his hands unceremoniously clenching and unclenching in front of him. "Why would you do that?"  
"Lower your voice!" Iruka whispered, and Kakashi obeyed, like a tired dog. Iruka looked back towards his couch, where Kakashi's ninken had long ago fallen into a hard, lethargic snooze. Bull had taken up residence at the end closest to the two men, with his brothers draped around him in various and rather impressive positions. Pakkun was sleeping on his back again. "If you thought for one moment I'd be forced to put my hands on that disgustingtrash you call literature without tossing it into the deepest pits of hell, then you gravely underestimate my convictions. Not even you, Kakashi-sensei, valiant Copy-nin and perfect ninja, will get away with leaving dirt like that in my home and expect to get it back!"  
"That was an autographed copy, given to me by Jiraiya himself." Kakashi put on his gravest face, watching even the faint red in Iruka's face quickly drain away. The remorse in his eyes was so sudden that Kakashi felt a pang of guilt that he quickly ignored. Iruka gaped, a heartfelt apology on the tip of his tongue, when he noticed that intentional gleam in Kakashi's steely glare.  
"No he didn't," Iruka sneered. The chunin's anger flared. "I can't believe you would evoke Jiraiya-sama's name just to make me feel bad!"  
"Now, now, Iruka-sensei, be mindful of your tone. You don't want to wake up my ninken…"  
"You…!" Iruka came at him, his face contorted in anger. Kakashi knew that face very well… It was time to go.  
"Well, I think I've outstayed my welcome," Kakashi smiled, scratching the back of his head. "I'm going to do some back-up surveillance; you know, for further security reasons…"  
"You're not wearing the proper clothes!" Iruka hissed.  
"The storm has ended—it shouldn't matter much," he smiled.  
Kakashi hopped on the ledge of the window, and Iruka could only shake his head and sigh. That's all Iruka could do, really. The chunin was quick-tempered and an emotional rollercoaster, but his anger never stopped Kakashi from doing whatever he wanted to do and, for Kakashi, he liked doing whatever Iruka didn't like. He didn't need Naruto as a buffer between safety and Iruka's wrath because, ironically enough, he was already safe. What could Iruka, who not knowing what to do with his anger fidgeted in place, really do to someone of Kakashi's capabilities? That's why he let the Academy sensei get away with actions other people wouldn't dare to attempt. Kakashi was not a people person, he knew that, and the ninja world was everything to him. Nights spent in the homes of other people were rare to nonexistent. Yet there was something about Iruka…  
Iruka was different. Iruka was safe. Why? He couldn't begin to comprehend.  
"What about your dogs?"  
"You keep them. Doesn't look like they're going anywhere, any time soon. Wouldn't you agree, Iruka-sensei?" the younger man blushed. Kakashi left just as a groan of disapproval escaped Iruka's lips and jumped to the top of the chunin's roof.  
He wasn't really leaving for surveillance purposes, not when every meter of the village had been checked a rechecked by every other available Shinobi. He leaned over one knee, allowing his other leg to stretch out over the flattop roof. Kakashi stared out towards the sky, waiting for that hour where the sun would rise, but he doubted he would see it. Though the storm had passed over, the clouds remained, daunting and ominous. Slowly, he let his head hang low and closed his eyes, focused on the chakra moving beneath him. His mind was intent on following it, until the chunin once again surrendered to sleep. Kakashi thought that was the end of it, until eight chakras, with similar signatures to his own, migrated from Iruka's living room to Iruka's bedroom.  
Now everything was quiet, in every sense of the word. His dogs were fed and resting, the village was safe; the chunin below him, tormented only by the loss of a leader, slept peacefully.  
For now, the village was safe. Everything and everyone had been taken cared of.  
Kakashi breathed deep into the night, suppressing the urge to whimper. He was hurting, badly, mentally and physically. The pain of a ninja was entirely different from that of civilians. It was profound and as everlasting as the scar tissue on their backs. For Kakashi, who felt he'd been a Shinobi since birth, it was becoming more and more difficult to distinguish the thin line between business and his everyday life. His mind and body were out of sync, unable to return from the fight. Even now, Kakashi sat confused and in need silence, some place secluded. Inside Iruka's apartment was not the place to clear his mind. His thoughts went into overdrive whenever he came anywhere near Iruka, for reasons that had nothing to do with the hang-ups of Shinobi life.

Even now, during Tsunade-sama's funeral service, Kakashi couldn't stop thinking about the man standing beside him. Iruka was the epitome of grief, with his shoulders sagging beneath the weight of his funeral robes. His gaze was downcast, no doubt thinking of all the moments he shared with Lady Tsunade. The rows of mourners were thinning as each one, starting from the back, came forward to pay their respects. Shizune, with Tonton in her arms, stood steady beside the vigil, where white lily petals, bouquets, and small candles adorned a single framed picture of the Godaime's smiling face.  
Shizune had made a rather inspiring speech at the beginning of the service; a eulogy that moved many of the attending to silent tears. "Shizune must have really loved Tsunade-sama," Iruka whispered to him.  
Kakashi hummed in agreement. Despite being the closest to Tsunade, her caretaker and friend, Shizune showed no tears and neither did Tonton. They remained strong for their Hokage, throughout the entire ceremony.  
"Where is Naruto?" Iruka asked, having spent the entire service searching the throng of villagers for that familiar blonde with the bright blue eyes and garish grin.  
Kakashi thought long and hard, slightly unnerved by the worry etched in Iruka's brow. He began with his usual manner, "Maa…I don't remember seeing him this morning." He glanced down the right side of his row, where what used to be Team 7, Kurenai, Gai, a few chunins, and the rest of the rookie nine stood. He opted to ask Sakura but quickly disregarded the idea, unable to tear the young Kunoichi from her mourning. "I didn't see him at the Memorial Stone, this morning."  
"So that's why you were late," Iruka breathed. The air went still, and Kakashi looked up in time to see a flash of lightning dance over a blanket of heavy gray clouds. "He must be…"  
"Don't say it."  
"I wasn't going to," Iruka shot back, quietly. Kakashi could feel the younger man's eyes burning holes into the completely covered side of his face. "But he must be," Iruka turned away.  
Finally, their row: an assortment of elite ninja, Elders, and close friends, stepped forward. It was split down the middle, between Iruka and Kakashi, to where the two men were separated during the proceedings. Kakashi stood by Iruka's side, the first two of their line to stand before Tsunade's vigil.  
"…Do you mind if I tell you something, Kakashi-sensei?" Iruka asked sadly.  
Kakashi didn't have the heart to turn a deaf ear. "Go on."  
Iruka exhaled, slowly. "When Sarutobi died, I was frightened and angry. I wasn't willing to believe that he had passed on; that he'd given his life to protect the village, and I wasn't ready to accept any other person to take his place. Then Tsunade-sama came along and I panicked. Even Naruto had accepted her, but I saw her as a threat to Sarutobi's memory. I missed him. He treated me like a son and acted like father I had lost long ago." Mindlessly, Iruka grazed a tan hand over the lily petals.  
Kakashi listened intently, fixated on the movement of Iruka's fingers. "What made you change your mind about her, Iruka-sensei?" he asked, genuinely curious.  
"Tsunade-sama did," Iruka said with a sad smile. "She was amazing in her own right; kind and understanding."  
"Kind? She was kind?" Kakashi scoffed, recalling a particularly vivid memory where Tsunade had thrown a liquor bottle at his head. "I don't recall her ever being kind, Iruka-sensei."  
"Maybe not to you," Iruka grumbled. "Tsunade-sama got along well with almost every other Shinobi but always complained that you were nothing but a stubborn ass."  
"People tend to complain about the things they don't like about themselves," Kakashi explained.  
"No…you gave her headaches, you and Naruto both." Kakashi paid his silent respects, before the two of them walked on in opposite directions. He thought about what Iruka said, reminded of his own first impressions of Tsunade. Used to death, Sarutobi's passing left him numb but, otherwise, unresponsive. Kakashi had no qualms with Tsunade becoming Hokage, knowing her to be one of the great Legendary Three. Personally, he hadn't known her at all, so he felt no reason to dislike her. Kakashi only disliked people he couldn't trust.  
They returned to their one solid row, where Kakashi saw Iruka briefly, before being forced to stare front and center.  
"Are you alright?" Iruka asked, which was a question Kakashi never expected Iruka to ask him. He was going to respond with whatever fell out of his mouth first, until a frail, higher-pitched voice beat him to the punch.  
"I don't know," the voice said, sniffling, coming from Iruka's side of the row. Not that the boy sounded like the sobbing pre-genin he once used to be, Kakashi tilted forward to see Konohamaru and his friends standing on his side of the front row so it wasn't him. "I don't like funerals," the unidentified voice whimpered.  
"Do you want me to take you home?" Iruka asked in a tone more soft and gentle than Kakashi had ever heard it to be.  
"No." Iruka knelt down, bringing a smaller, willing body into a tight hug. Kakashi then saw the small boy that owned the even smaller voice. He was sun-kissed, perhaps a few shades lighter than Iruka, with different shades of silver hair shooting out in every direction. He wore his Konoha headband loose around the base of his neck, with the sleeves of his funeral robes rolled up to his shoulders. He was scrawny, Kakashi noted, while watching the boy wrap his bare arms around Iruka's neck. His eyes were clenched shut. When they snapped open, Kakashi was accosted with what could only be described as unadulterated loathing.  
"May we end this ceremony with a few moments of silence," announced Elder Mitokado, who now stood before Tsunade's vigil. "Please, let us bow our heads."  
Kakashi, along with the whole of Konoha, bowed his head, ignoring the bemusement brought on by the nameless boy's glare. Last time he checked, Kakashi didn't know any hell-raising looking brats with hazel eyes and wild silver hair. When he opened his eyes, Iruka was standing upright again, with an assortment of emotions playing on his face.  
"I believe the Godaime would have been proud to see her loyal village all in attendance," Elder Mitokado continued in a boisterous voice, reminding Kakashi that a certain blonde was still missing. "Though we shall mourn, we should also consider the future and the hope that Lady Tsunade shed upon all of Konoha. For she, like the rest of us, committed herself to the prosperity of the village. Let us not now abandon our strength, in her absence, as the Godaime would insist we move forward. That is why, for the sake of Konoha, for the sake of Tsunade-hime's vision, I take this moment to announce the Godaime's successor: Konohagakure's Sixth Hokage."  
Elder Mitokado's words traveled like wildfire, spreading throughout the crowd as confusion, excitement, and surprise. The murmuring began, much to Kakashi's distaste. He wasn't the least bit surprised and was confused even less, understanding the dire urgency of naming one amongst their number as their new leader. Rumors of the Godaime's demise would, eventually, spread throughout The Five Great Shinobi Countries, and such news would be taken as 'Konoha's in a state of vulnerability…let's attack it.'  
"Well that's not surprising," Kakashi voiced, in light of the various disbelieving murmurs.  
"I agree," Iruka stated firmly, earning a raised brow from the silver headed jounin.  
"People of Konohagakure, I hereby pronounce Hatake Kakashi as our Sixth Hokage!"  
Kakashi never knew a gulp could make a sound, until that moment. He felt the eyes of hundreds pour down upon him, to where he could have gone blind and it wouldn't have made a difference. His hands in his pockets, the hunch of his shoulders, the way his headband drooped over his left eye, and how his hair shot to the heavens…he thought of himself and everything about him that everyone else could see. Kakashi's mouth gaped behind his mask. The implanted Sharingan in his left eye socket spun wildly, while his right eye extended to a size he never thought possible.  
"Don't worry, Kakashi-sensei," Iruka whispered, grinning softly. "You don't look as half as surprised as you probably feel."  
Chapter Two  
The inauguration ceremony was quick and short-lived. Elder Mitokado made an official announcement, on the Hokage balcony, where then Kakashi was faced with the whole village. Forced by the elders and flanked by his fellow peers, he greeted the somber crowd in what could be considered a state of shock. He remembered bits and pieces, flashes of sorrow stricken faces and reproachable stares. A few hours ago saw these very same villagers saying their farewells to a beloved leader, and now Kakashi could see them too, staring up at him with eyes of unfathomable sadness. Usually, Konoha congratulated their newly appointed Hokages with boisterous cheering. Kakashi grimaced, because his sensei's inauguration wasn't nearly as subdued. He'd never seen all of Konoha so silent, so still. The moment felt stretched over, like a long strand of existence that he would have liked nothing more than to rip from the space time continuum.  
He knew he should have jutsued to safety when the elders insisted he couldn't be Hokage and wear a mask. Not that he wanted to be Hokage…and the elders eventually relented, disapprovingly, and that the jounin could live with. But he couldn't live with all those eyes watching him, expecting…something from him. Was it a speech, like the one Lady Utatane force-fed him before the ceremony? He never even got around to saying it.  
Kakashi no longer donned the funeral robes of a mourner, now wearing a navy-green vest and a navy-blue shirt with the Konoha emblem engraved on each sleeve. He was any other Shinobi, like the many who changed clothes in an effort to move forward with their daily routine. Kakashi wore similar pants, similar wrappings, and sandals littered with various flavors of dry mud. Only the way his headband drooped over his left eye, and the custom-made gloves on his hands, singled him out as Hatake Kakashi. Kakashi, however, looked nothing like a Hokage. Therefore, he deduced, he didn't have to sound like one.  
So he forgot the speech, waved politely, and disappeared in a puff of smoke.  
"All along, it was a clone?" Yamato asked, thoroughly amused with his senpai's deviousness.  
"I don't do speeches," Kakashi explained.  
The two sat opposite one another, lounged out over the two waiting benches in the Mission Room. The brunette turned his head, his almond-shaped eyes thoughtfully gazing into the recently promoted jounin. He stated slowly, "You ditched your own ceremony, undetected, while surrounded by elite jounin."  
"Maa…ditching would require me having actually been there."  
"You're impressive, Kakashi-senpai."  
"That must be why I'm Hokage," he frowned, having spent a good portion of the day searching for the ultimate reason. He heard Yamato's low melodious chuckle, the inevitable response towards many of his more reckless indiscretions, and settled back against the bench. Kakashi crossed his arms and stretched, slowly inhaling and exhaling the stiff scent of paper and the strong stench of black ink with a terribly concealed yawn. The aroma was forever imbedded into the room, having seeped into the faded blue paint on the walls. The room itself, however, was relatively clean. Discarded pieces of badly written mission reports had been picked up off the floor, the missions desk was wiped clean, the bookshelves were orderly, properly stacked, and the bulletin board hanging on the wall was notice-free. And though none of his observations interested Kakashi in the least bit, it did say a lot about whoever sat through the indignity of having to work the very last shift.  
"Have you thought about what you're going to say, when the elders catch up with you?" Yamato asked.  
"If they catch up with me…"  
"You're going to need an apology, and a good one at that."  
"Maa…I guess my not being there didn't fit very well into your plans. Mybad. Next time, I'll be the better person and give you a head's up." Kakashi swung his long limbs over the bench, pressing his sandals into the hardwood floor. "How does that sound?" he drawled, hunched over himself.  
Yamato raised a hand, swatting his senpai's bad idea into the atmosphere. "You may need to work on it a bit more, Kakashi-senpai."  
"How did everyone take it," Kakashi sighed, not really all that interested.  
Yamato sat up, leaning into the back of his seat. "A lot of people could have identified the difference between yourself and a clone, but I don't think anyone thought you wouldn't show up to your own Hokage ceremony."  
"I thought you, of all people, would figure it out, eventually," Kakashi shrugged.  
"I didn't think you wouldn't show up to your own Hokage ceremony!" Yamato said with wide eyes. "With all due respect, Kakashi-senpai, who does that?"  
"This wasn't my ceremony," Kakashi stated firmly.  
Yamato relented with a heavy sigh. "Well, in any case, your little stunt scared the village. People were shouting sabotage, until Elder Mitokado explained how eager you were to perform your new duties."  
"Of course, because prospect sounds so very exciting."  
"Then Gai-sensei stormed the balcony, with tears in his eyes, might I add, and professed defeat in light of such a crafty eternal rival."  
"He's a bit melodramatic," Kakashi winced, scratching through silver strands of hair. In his mind's eye, he saw Gai towering over the village, clad in green spandex, with tears in his eyes and a hideous song in his voice. The jounin recalled him being one of the many highly capable Shinobi standing on that balcony, of all whom could have easily detected his jutsu. Others there included many people Kakashi felt himself acquainted with: Nara Shikaku, Mitarashi Anko, Yuhi Kurenai, Shiranui Genma, Namiashi Raido, Yamashiro Aoba, and Morino Ibiki. According to Yamato, Kakashi dumbfounded them all with his absence, causing the silver haired jounin to reflect on the significance of their astonishment. As their newly appointed leader, what were the expectations? Maybe misguided by his unwavering loyalty to Konoha, his fellow ninja believed he would feel a sense of duty to the Hokage title, when just the opposite had taken hold of the Copy Nin. He fought off his skepticism and won, but allowed his lingering distaste to dictate a rather rash and, apparently, unexpected response.  
Kakashi considered himself an extraordinary Shinobi with little interest in leadership, so what constituted as an expectant response, especially towards an impromptu ceremony just after his predecessor's death? The elders, of whom he did not like at all, tried to string him along like a puppet. Clone-Kakashi walked where they wanted him to walk and stopped where they wanted him to stop. They gave him tight-lip smiles. They tightened their hold and pulled him onto that balcony. Then the elders loosened the cords and pushed him forward, where a manipulative little speech was expected to alleviate the anguish of an entire nation. With his only option a feat of near impossibility, clone-Kakashi fell back on his fight or flight instincts and fled to freedom.  
"I think Sakura and Sai understood." Yamato's overly objective tone fought its way into Kakashi's thoughts. "They said they weren't surprised."  
"Did they know?" Kakashi raised an eyebrow.  
Yamato shook his head, deflating Kakashi's sudden interest. "No, but they weren't surprised when it turned out to be a clone. They never thought you'd agree with the elders' decision. But Sai said he found it all rather entertaining."  
"I'm glad someone did," Kakashi said.  
The jounin sunk even further into his seat, resting his elbows on the worn-out fabric on his knees. His gaze settled on Yamato, a man he considered a close friend. Kakashi watched his fellow jounin fiddle with the metal frame around his face and remembered him saying something about an apology that he thought little of then as he did now. No rules had been broken, and no orders had been disregarded. He was an accomplished jounin, with a higher success rate than most solo mission Shinobi. He demanded to be left alone, as his only reward, to read his Icha Icha series to his heart's content and pursue other non-Shinobi related interests…Then, without notice, some bureaucratic order decided to pull Kakashi's rather tightly coiled routine from under his feet. So he would not apologize, not for anything; not for being an animal of habit. It was, perhaps, a character trait the elders should have considered before pulling his name from the ballot box.  
"Did anyone else have anything to say?"  
Yamato's brow lifted into his hairline. "Did you have someone in mind, Kakashi-senpai?"  
"No," Kakashi lied. He scanned the Mission Room and settled eye on the bookshelf against the wall, where volumes were shelved by height and numeral order. He smiled sinisterly, cursing his bad luck, as the last helpless sap on shift duty came into focus. The day was repeating itself, if he was thinking about Iruka again. In light of everything else, a simple irrelevant chunin kept invading his thoughts. Kakashi even thought of Iruka's reaction when he saw, as others would see, him disappear in a cloud of smoke. Imagining Iruka's face pinched with pure rage, flushed blood red, with a fire in his normally docile eyes, and a poignant scowl on his face, only made Kakashi want to go through with his plan even more.  
Yamato stared at his senpai, long and hard, where he noticed the faintest hint of smiling behind Kakashi's mask. Quite sure that his new Hokage was not even aware of this ongoing phenomenon, where Kakashi would smile for no apparent reason, intrigued him a great deal. Still, the reason baffled him, as Kakashi was a mysterious man with questionable motives. The reason for his senpai's smiles could be quite sinister, like when the silver haired jounin would confess another plan to torment Iruka-sensei. Those smiles manifested just as this one did: broad, genuine, and thoroughly unnoticed. It was the kind of smile that never reached the eyes and, for his senpai that was the truest kind.  
"I ran into to Iruka-sensei, after the ceremony." Yamato mentioned, oddly unsurprised by Kakashi's wide-eye stare.  
"What did he say?" Kakashi asked, his subtle smile slowly slipping.  
Yamato shrugged, "He was upset, but he wasn't angry. Maybe next time, Kakashi-senpai," Yamato chuckled, thinking of how captivated his senpai was with pushing Iruka-sensei's buttons. Kakashi shrugged, unfazed by this. Perhaps Iruka-sensei was not the person Kakashi had in mind.  
"Maa...did he look surprised?" Kakashi pressed, shocking the other man.  
"Ah, not that I could see. He seemed annoyed, though..."  
"Did he blush?" Now Yamato sat utterly speechless, noting the persistent rise in Kakashi's tone. His Anbu leader was interested and engaged, when discussing the Academy teacher. Even more bewildering was the unanswered question floating in the air. He was confused as to why Kakashi would want to know if Iruka-sensei blushed or not.  
"What?"  
"Did he blush?"Kakashi elaborated, "Did his face go red, around his cheeks and nose...it happens a lot with Iruka. He's always blushing; I say something inappropriate, he blushes. I do something to anger him, and he blushes. He takes care of my ninken…and he still blushes. It's a skin condition, I wager..." Kakashi trailed off, his thoughts deepening.  
"You want to know if Iruka-sensei was blushing, after the ceremony." Yamato blinked.  
Kakashi nodded, firmly so.  
"No, Kakashi-senpai," Yamato shook his head slowly; "Iruka-sensei was not blushing, after the ceremony."  
"Mm..." Kakashi leaned back, rubbing his chin softly between his thumb and index finger. There was a gleam in his one visible eye, Yamato noticed, something entirely foreign to who he knew the man to be. It stood out among all of Kakashi's distinguishable traits, even overriding his overly confident demeanor. He'd seen such concentration on Kakashi's face, many times during missions, but never thought mentioning Iruka-sensei would bring about that same amount of consideration.  
Then it occurred to him what Kakashi actually said, so he asked, "He-he takes care of your ninken?" Kakashi shrugged, his gaze drifting away.  
"Whenever I come over," he nodded. "Maa… they are my warriors, but Iruka-sensei treats them like babies. I think they like him more than me," Kakashi frowned, "and if he keeps feeding them like he did last night, I may not have a hound team anymore." Then the jounin slowly smiled with his one eye. Yamato gaped because Kakashi never let anyone tend to his ninken, for fear of another person jeopardizing his elite hound team. Then again, the man did think very little of Iruka-sensei's capabilities. Perhaps he thought it was a safe choice.  
"How often do you go to his place?" Yamato asked, a little more than interested in this unspoken development.  
"Every so often. He's makes good tea," Kakashi answered. "I was on a mission when I received the news of Tsunade's demise. I wanted to make sure Naruto wouldn't take her death as hard as he'd taken Jiraiya's. I found him at Iruka's," he explained. "That's where I usually find Naruto." It was such a simple explanation but, for Kakashi, it was a milestone in human interaction. Yamato knew his senpai for his pranks and his passive pursuits to torment the chunin, but he never thought his senpai so cruel as to inconvenience Iruka-sensei in his own home.  
"Kakashi-sensei..." Yamato could feel his head shake. No, he thought, his senpai would never be so cruel as to belittle Iruka in his own home as he managed to everywhere else. From what interactions Yamato had witnessed between Kakashi and Iruka-sensei, they were never really friendly. It was a sport, for Kakashi, to patronize the chunin for his own entertainment, and Yamato couldn't honestly believe Iruka-sensei so ignorant that he couldn't tell the difference between friendly banter and the many exchanges he shared with his pale and, sometimes, incredibly mean senpai.  
"Mm?" Kakashi responded, his mind seemingly somewhere else.  
Yamato struggled to keep his thoughts to himself. Truthfully, he found Kakashi's insistent need to prove his superiority over Iruka-sensei a bit tasteless. He never found it as amusing as the many jounin standing nearby, filling the Mission Room with their snickers and chortles. He couldn't brush it off as Kakashi being Kakashi, as Genma-san and Gai-sensei so often did. Kakashi would never put his attention on someone he didn't care about, but he treated Iruka-sensei in ways a friend never would. His senpai was obsessed with tormenting Umino Iruka.  
"He must really like your ninken," Yamato figured, or Iruka's love and affection for Naruto ran so deeply as to tolerate his jounin mentor. Or maybe Iruka-sensei himself was unbelievably forgiving and kind enough to welcome even the cockiest of jounins into his home. "Considering he takes care of them, Kakashi-senpai..."  
"Maa, does he like me too?" Kakashi drawled. "He wouldn't let me leave in my wet clothes, so he let me borrow his."  
"Th-that was very kind of him, Kakashi-senpai."  
Kakashi shrugged, not at all disturbed by these happenings. "It's nothing," he waved off. "That's just how Iruka-sensei is; he's a worrier. He worries about Naruto a lot, even when everyone knows Naruto can take care of himself. Besides, there's not much Iruka-sensei can do anyway, can he?" Kakashi chuckled.  
"Maybe Iruka-sensei is trying to protect the people he cares about in the best way he knows how," Yamato frowned. Kakashi hummed, allowing a sense of boredom to take over his features. Irrational annoyance filled Yamato, on Iruka-sensei's behalf. He didn't know the chunin very well, but he knew the man to be friendly enough and caring enough to not disregard his affections so carelessly.  
"By cleaning clothes and feeding ninken?" the Copy Nin drawled.  
"He fed them?"  
"Maa, just ask them yourself." Kakashi bit into his calloused thumb, reopening the sizable wound to summon his ninken. There, where the palm of his hand pressed into the hardwood floor, materialized eight dogs all perched, alert, and waiting for action.  
"What's up, boss?" Pakkun asked, hanging from Bull's head.  
Kakashi motioned towards Yamato. "Tell him how you pampered pups spent the night cuddling up to Iruka-sensei," he scowled. Eight pairs of ears perked up, framing eight identical grins all blinding Yamato with their shine.  
"Gladly," Pakkun sighed.  
"Iruka-sensei is warm," Bull hummed.  
"He's soft too!" Guruko yelped happily.  
"Iruka-sensei is loving," Akino stated softly. He turned his narrow nose, pointedly glaring at Kakashi from behind his round sunglasses.  
"Maa, I'm loving," Kakashi said, his shoulders hunching.  
"You overwork us!" Urushi spat with wild angry eyes. "I never hear the words "scouting" or "mission" when we're with Iruka-sensei."  
"He likes to play games with us and treats us with equal attention," Uhei said reasonably. "How come you don't play games with us anymore?"  
"You're not pups anymore," Kakashi responded, defensively.  
"Even old dogs like to play," Bisuke said sadly, his face drooping. "We may be ninken, but it's nice to be cared for like pet, every now and then."  
Yamato watched the rise and fall of Kakashi's shoulders, the other man troubled by the sad pout on his ninken's face. Kakashi cared very little about the opinions of others, but he did care about his ninken and how they viewed him. "You'll all be happy about your new living arrangements, then."  
"What do ya mean, boss?" Bull asked.  
Kakashi wiped his thumb, leaving an even darker trail against his dark blue pants. "Your days of being summoned are over."  
Pakkun hopped off of the top of Bull's head to lightly scrape at Kakashi's toes. "What are you saying?" he asked.  
"I'm Hokage now, so the lot of you can run free and go...play."  
Their reaction evolved at such a slow pace that Yamato feared he might have fallen into a jutsu of sorts, where time had frozen all the energetic tails flapping against the floor. One minute eight dogs were sitting on their hind legs, each with a variant expression of shock on their face, and the very next second their numbers were prancing towards the exit.  
"Where do you think you're going?" Kakashi snapped at his departing pack.  
"Where do ya think?" Bull called over his shoulder. "You said we were free. We're going to Iruka-sensei's place."  
"I didn't mean you were free from me," Kakashi moped. Yamato chuckled, hesitantly, watching a blurred version of Kakashi streak across the room to the exit. Then the new Hokage glared at his ninken, and the hurt in his one visible eye nearly made him human.  
"We knew you loved us," Guruko raced around Kakashi's feet.  
"We knew you couldn't let us go," Uhei added, brushing his bandaged neck against his master's calf. Kakashi sulked, standing in annoyance, while his ninken danced around his legs. They were appreciative and loyal to Kakashi. True, the man was never the most lenient or understanding of team leaders—Yamato knew this all too well, but he cared for anyone, man or creature, who charged into danger with him. He could only imagine how many fights, battles, and wars Kakashi and his ninken shared together, but enough for Yamato to know that the bond they shared was strong. Pakkun, Bull, Uhei, Guruko, Shiba, Bisuke, Urushi, and Akino: they were as much pets to Kakashi as any ninken could be to an emotionally stunted Shinobi.  
And, strangely enough, his senpai's ninken seemed equally loyal to Iruka-sensei. They adored the man, an easy enough feat, he reasoned. Iruka-sensei was terribly humble, thoughtful... Yamato recalled his stint as Team 7's leader and, whenever they returned from particularly grueling missions, Iruka-sensei always showed up ready and willing to treat every one of their tired bodies to a bowl at Ichiraku's. Iruka-sensei was all smiles and praise, and always welcomed them into his home with hot tea at the ready.  
He was a charming and, not just a loving man, but an appealing one too. Yamato could easily admit to the man's attractiveness, physically and mentally, and believed Iruka incapable of any wrong-doing. Then again, as the jounin had so quickly learned, the younger brunette could conjure a temper like no other, and could easily become quite the challenging foe. A feisty and passionate chunin, Yamato didn't doubt for one moment Iruka's ability to retaliate with devastating pranks. His legendary abilities remained the sole reason he always made sure to stay on the chunin's good side.  
Yamato shook away his trailing thoughts. Kakashi still stood by the door, barricading it from the ninken nipping at his feet, and Yamato remembered why his thoughts had drifted to Iruka-sensei. Not that the Academy teacher didn't often come into his thoughts...  
He sighed, sidetracked again.  
When and how Kakashi's ninken became so enamored with Iruka-sensei, Yamato didn't know, but they apparently appreciated the chunin in ways their master didn't.  
"Move, before I step on you," Kakashi playfully threatened. The silver haired jounin sat back down on the bench, with his ninken following closely behind him.  
"So you're Hokage now, eh?" Pakkun jumped onto the bench, sitting beside his master. His brothers sat all around Kakashi, as his doting audience.  
"Mm," Kakashi hummed, which the ninken understood as a 'yes'.  
"When's the ceremony, boss?" Bull asked.  
Kakashi shrugged, "It already happened."  
"What?"  
"We missed it?" Guruko whined. "Why weren't we invited?"  
"How come you didn't let us go?" Pakkun asked, equally upset, even if his tone and manner resembled the lanky man sitting beside him.  
"Now, now," Kakashi said, in a lackluster attempt to console. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't go either."  
"What do ya mean ya didn't go?" Urushi scolded. "How do you not go to your own ceremony?" Before Kakashi could begin his explanation, perhaps a fabricated tale Yamato would have rather enjoyed, there was a persistent knock on the door. Yamato, Kakashi, and his ninken fell silent, all watching someone's dark outline through the small, foggy window on the door.  
"Maa, it's open," Kakashi called over his shoulder, no longer interested with who it may be. The door swung open, revealing a rather accomplished looking Shizune. She stepped into the room and Tonton, stationed at her heels, shut the door with one piggy leg.  
"We've finally found him, Tonton," Shizune shared a brief grin with piglet, "the man of the hour."  
"You rang?" Kakashi turned his head, acknowledging the Kunoichi with his eyes. He then noticed the plain white box being carried in her hands and was mildly curious of its contents. He noted the expression on Shizune's face: accomplishment and annoyance wrapped into one. He smiled cheekily. "How did you find me?"  
"I had Tonton track your scent," she replied, examining the room. "Of course; hide out in the Mission Room when missions are canceled for the ceremony and Tsunade-sama's funeral. To think, I thought you didn't show up to pursue more noble activities, like finding Naruto-kun," Shizune breathed, still evidently irritated. "I noticed he didn't show up for the funeral or the ceremony."  
"Yes, Kakashi-senpai," Yamato leaned forward, "I thought that same thing, at first. But I assume you know where he is, since you've been here this whole time."  
"This whole time!" exclaimed Shizune, tightly gripping the box.  
"I know where he is," Kakashi admitted frankly, ignoring both Shizune's disbelief and Yamato's curiosity. He looked past his ninken, staring at Yamato and daring the man to press for more questions. "What's in the box?" he asked Shizune, when realization finally settled into Yamato's gaze.  
Shizune relented, knowing full well that the pale jounin in her presence would never apologize for leading her on a wild goose chase. The elders had her looking everywhere for Kakashi, from the very moment his clone jutsu disappeared into thin air. She, still grieving for her fallen friend, spent all day looking for the new Hokage instead of packing as she intended to. "No one expected you to address the village while wearing Hokage robes, considering how rushed everything was, but it is expected of you from here on end." The Kunoichi pulled the contents from the box and placed them at Pakkun's feet.  
Kakashi gave what was to be his new clothes a look over, slowly peeling through the cloth with his spidery fingers. He gave Shizune a hard stare. "There are more than robes," he said.  
Shizune smiled, "It's your robes as well as your new outfit. You can't be expected to dress in your normal Shinobi wear, Hokage-sama." Kakashi's eye went wide, causing Shizune's smile to broaden. Yamato blinked several times, stunned, having yet to hear anyone address Kakashi as "Hokage"— not even himself, but he thought doing so might annoy his senpai.  
Kakashi absorbed the new title, slowly, as he would any foreign substance. Not wanting Shizune's respectful gaze, his eye turned downward to stare at the fine burgundy of his Hokage robes. They matched the traditional Hokage cap that, no doubt, awaited him in Tsuna—in his office. The top was a feather light wrap, pale blue, with dark blue triangles aligning the hem. Pants of a richer fabric than his own unfolded into his lap and were quickly followed by a pair of greaves. They were pitch black and heavy, weighted with stainless steel imbedded within the fine leather of each shin guard. The greaves were followed by leather black sandals that would surely reach his calf with the length of their cuffs. Then a pair of navy blue gloves appeared from beneath his new footwear, taunting Kakashi with no metal plating. These gloves, appropriately fingerless, were simply for show.  
"Maa..." He honestly didn't know what to say. He looked to Shizune again, noting the anticipation on the woman's face.  
"There's more," she pressed.  
"...Doesn't look like it," Kakashi reasoned, waving a glove into the air. Then something small and black fell from it, right next to Pakkun's foot. Kakashi stared at it, analyzing its shape and size. He pinched it between two fingers and lifted it to his eye, watching as two black strings dangled in the air.  
"It's an eye-patch," Yamato breathed, overall impressed with his senpai's Hokage clothes. They were fitting for Kakashi; various shades of blue and black, simple, and not as flashy or showy as kage clothes tended to be. The elders had to have had his senpai in mind for some time, to be aware of what Kakashi would and would not wear as Hokage. Not that Kakashi accepted these clothes, but it was an outfit Yamato knew the jounin would wear if he had to.  
"Of course it's an eye-patch," said Shizune. "It's not part of the Hokage assemble to wear a headband. The Hokage represents the leadership of such loyalty. But Kakashi-sama can't walk around without something covering his Sharingan."  
"Oh good," Kakashi chuckled, his eye turned up into a strained smile, "I've always wanted to be a pirate." His ninken snickered, causing the piglet at Shizune's feet to huff and puff.  
"Okay, okay," Pakkun said, interpreting the pig's anger. "Tonton says she came up with the eye-patch idea, so we shouldn't laugh." Pakkun looked up, smiling at his master. "She's right, boss. You would need something to stop your chakra from flowing freely."  
"Plus, other people besides pirates wear eye-patches. Blind people, for one," Shizune chuckled hesitantly, realizing her mistake in words. "I-I mean," she scratched the back of her head, terribly unraveled by Kakashi's hard, cold stare, "of-of course more than just b-blind people, like yourself, Kakashi-sama...but, I don't know anyone with a blood limit that is unable to deactivate. I mean...!"  
"Shizune-san," Yamato smiled sympathetically, "It's okay. I think he understands."  
Kakashi sighed, waiting for Shizune's idiocy to die a painful death. Lost in his thoughts, he dropped his hand, stared at the clothes in his lap, and frowned. He felt Pakkun nibble the eye-patch from his fingers before the pug passed it along amongst his brothers. Soon everything in his lap had gone missing, scratched from his grasp by a pack of inquisitive hounds.  
"In light of Tsunade's death," Kakashi paused, listening to Shizune's sharp intake of breath. Of course, he thought, it was just as Iruka had said: the two women were close. Kakashi had grown quite accustom to grieving, to the point where he showed very little sorrow for the fallen. He couldn't quite expect everyone to react the same way, he knew, but it would be nice. "I take it you are my new assistant, Shizune-san."  
To his surprise, the older woman gave a hefty chortle. "Being Tsunade-sama's assistant was more than a position, to me. She was my good friend, and I was her caretaker. On the road, we looked after one another and, when she became Hokage, nothing changed. With all due respect, Hokage-sama, I'm really not cut out for the position."  
Kakashi could understand this. "It would become an obligation."  
"Yes," Shizune nodded. "I'm leaving Konohagakure tomorrow. Tonton and I are going to hit the road again," she smiled. "Let's see if we can get some of Tsunade-sama's debts cleared."  
"You're leaving?" Yamato asked, disbelieving.  
"I do hope your ears are working," Kakashi drawled, with a half-lidded stare.  
Yamato ignored the man, noticeably unhappy with Shizune's decision to leave the village. "You're a native here, Shizune-san, and your abilities as a Shinobi is a value to Konoha."  
"I'm sorry, Yamato-san," Shizune gently shook her head. "I'd rather not stay, simply because I'm good at what I do."  
"What other reason is there?" Kakashi asked. His understanding had reached its end. Yamato relented, seemingly accepting this reason, but Kakashi simply could not. "You're only as significant as the number of lives you are capable of saving," Kakashi stated firmly, but his words didn't seem to affect the smile on Shizune's lips or the conviction in her eyes. "You're still a good Shinobi, Shizune-san."  
"I'm a superb Shinobi, Kakashi-sama," she corrected, "and, one day, you'll remember that there's more to life than being the perfect warrior." Shizune leaned forward, swooping Tonton into her arms. "In any case," she chuckled, "just know that I will not be acting as your assistant, Kakashi-sama."  
"Then who's going to help me?" he asked.  
"Is the boss admitting helplessness?" snickered Urushi.  
"Hardly," Kakashi shot back, "but I'm not a desk jockey and, if Tsunade's mental breakdowns were any indication, I can assume the Hokage title comes with a fairly large amount of paperwork."  
"Tons," Shizune humorously cut in. "Tsunade-sama's organizational skills were fairly non-existent. She used to get confused a lot and mixed up her dispatches, to where the Sand got messages that were meant for the Mist." Kakashi and Yamato's eyes went wide with alarm. "Not even I could account for the piles of paperwork that needed to be sent and filed and numbered and..."  
"Maa, if you're trying to talk me out of being Hokage, you're succeeding," Kakashi said wearily.  
"No, off course not," she grinned. "You shouldn't worry. I'm sure Iruka-sensei wouldn't mind assisting you, like he assisted Tsunade-sama."  
"Iruka-sensei?" Yamato frowned.  
"Maa, I'm getting worried, Yamato. Are you certain your hearing hasn't been compromised?"  
"I heard her loud and clear, Kakashi-senpai," Yamato sulked.  
"I might have been Tsunade-sama's official assistant," Shizune continued, "but it was Iruka-sensei who helped me with most of the work. He's magnificent at keeping paperwork properly filed, and the Records Room is always immaculately clean when..."  
"I don't need some Academy teacher doing my work for me. I'm quite the capable jounin, and the last thing I need is some chunin helping me out—ow!" Kakashi scowled, waiting for Pakkun to retract his claws from his forearm.  
"That's not what you were saying last night, when you scarfed down some of Iruka-sensei's finest miso eggplant soup like a starving dog," Pakkun growled, his nails sinking further into his master's skin.  
"He made you miso eggplant soup?" Yamato asked, bewildered.  
"Yes," Kakashi cringed. "Pakkun, let go of my arm." Deliberately, Pakkun slowly pulled his nails from out of his master's arm and returned to a state of harmlessness. Kakashi wanted to fling him off the bench, but there were witnesses, and all eight of his dogs were staring him down with equal glares of contempt. If he threw Pakkun, he'd have to throw them all. "What's gotten into you guys?"  
"You shouldn't badmouth Iruka-sensei like that," Guruko barked.  
"He's right. You shouldn't," Shizune frowned. "Good luck with your new duties, Kakashi-sama. You're a good man, when you want to be—the village will surely thrive under your leadership. As for myself, handing over your Hokage clothes was the last of my duties. Tonton and I must pack now." The piglet in her arms squealed in agreement, causing the Kunoichi to smile happily.  
"Wait. I have a few questions that I like you to answer, Shizune-san." The request stopped Shizune. She turned around, with the door gaping behind her.  
"Of course, Kakashi-sama," Shizune bowed, nearly throwing Kakashi off from what he intended to say. He didn't think he'd come to appreciate such displays of respect, even if it was due only to his new title.  
"You knew about the elders' decision, didn't you?" Kakashi eyed her wearily.  
"Yes, I was aware of their decision. As you can imagine, I was sworn to secrecy by Elder Mitokado. He said he would tell you personally; I didn't think he would announce the news during Tsunade-sama's funeral."  
"Do you know why they chose me?"  
"Isn't it obvious, Kakashi-sama?"  
"Had it been obvious, I wouldn't be asking," he answered flatly.  
Shizune shook her head, smiling sadly. "The elders felt you more than qualified, with your many accomplishments as a Shinobi and your ability to lead others. You wouldn't be asking me, though, if those were the only reasons."  
"You're right...I wouldn't be asking you."  
"Honestly, I don't really know why, but I'm glad they chose you. Tsunade must have known she wasn't going to make it," Shizune's face fell. "She had every intention on passing the title onto you, knowing you would one day pass it onto Naruto-kun, when he was ready."  
Kakashi didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. With a final farewell, Shizune departed, leaving only an empty white box in her absence. Cold air gushed in from the hallway, assaulting Kakashi with physical discomfort. He sat back, with his brow furrowed in contemplation, while listening to his ninken fuss over his Hokage attire. "This is frustrating," he admitted, lowly.  
Yamato sympathized with Kakashi, knowing the man well enough to know that frustration to Kakashi was borderline hopelessness. He frowned, "You know, you could have just said no. Tell the elders you respectfully decline, and I'm certain they'll choose someone else to be Hokage."  
Kakashi never even considered that an option. "I'd rather not go down in the history books as the first person to disgrace the title of Hokage by turning it down. It would be a dishonor to my sensei, as well as my father."  
"Of course, Kakashi-senpai." Yamato sat back, watching Kakashi's new garments and gear balance on wet noses and furry heads. "Can I see?" he asked.  
"Of course!" Guruko exclaimed, while the others pawed everything over to the ecstatic dog. Guruko plopped everything into his lap, where Yamato could get a good look. However trained, they were still dogs, so he expected everything to be coated with adequate amounts of drool. He examined the top, the pants, the robe, even the accessories and noted that not even a bite mark marred his senpai's new clothing.  
"Yamato."  
"Yes, Kakashi-senpai?"  
"I assume it would honor you to share my Hokage duties," Kakashi closed his eye and smiled a look of innocence Yamato knew to never fall for again. The last time Yamato was honored to do anything for his senpai, he ended up in the middle of a training field, sleep-deprived, while forced to endure the agonizing chore of repressing Naruto's inner-Kyuubi for a month. Never again.  
"You assume incorrectly, Kakashi-senpai. I'm just like any other jounin Shinobi: I'm no good at paperwork or organization. Why don't you ask Iruka-sensei to help you? Shizune-san did say he'd be happy to assist you."  
"I don't need assistance, especially not from Iruka-sensei. Whatever he can do, I can surely do better." Kakashi frowned.  
"Of course, Kakashi-senpai," Yamato agreed with little belief in his tone. He went back to examining the other man's clothes, ignorant to the eight pairs of ears listening to their conversation. Kakashi sat staring down his ninkens' stares, each glare identical to the next.  
"What?"  
"You owe Iruka-sensei an apology," Bisuke piped up.  
"Please," Kakashi rolled his eye. "I don't owe anyone anything. What I say can't be help, just as I can't help it if a blissfully ignorant chunin decides to befriend my ninken." Yamato's gaze shot from over the robes obscuring his sight. "I don't need his help," Kakashi leered at his ninken, an equivalent amount of venom in his sinister stare, "especially when I have eight little helpers here; at my beck and call, day and night."  
Kakashi's ninken grinned cheekily, mimicking their master for an entirely different reason.  
Chapter Three  
"Where do you want these, boss?"  
"Mm…just put them in the storage room."  
"But, this all looks like some really important stuff," Bull insisted, pawing at a particular document that read Contractacross the front.  
Kakashi shrugged and waved his hand into the air. Gently, Bull pulled the seemingly miscellaneous stack of documents within the tight clench of his jaw, passing Akino who had just returned from the storage room. Akino passed Shiba, who worked diligently on stacking paperwork piled at the edge of Tsunade's desk. Well, it was really Kakashi's desk now, as well as the piles, the paperwork, the documents, the files, and the entire Hokage office. Kakashi never thought he'd own a desk, let alone an office, in his entire Shinobi career. It seemed like more of an Iruka thing to have. He was a teacher, after all, and spent much of his time behind a desk, while his narrowed gaze kept watch over dozens of bratty kids. He also worked behind a desk in the Missions Room, ripping the stones from higher ranked Shinobi with reports so bad it would lead anyone to believe that one of Iruka's bratty kids completed them. Still, Kakashi refused to believe he needed the younger man's help.  
From what he could tell, his ninken were quite the agreeable pack of servants, doing away with Tsunade's unfinished scrolls, her letters, as well as the dispatches that had yet to be sent. Before her and Tonton's morning departure, Shizune helped guide Kakashi through what papers could and couldn't be done away with. She reassured him that all important documents and information had been dealt with by her, personally.  
"Oh good," Kakashi replied, "less work for me."  
The silver haired Rokudaime leaned back, lifting and crossing his legs over the newly cleaned desk set out before him. With seemingly idle time, he pulled out an infamous green book, the final installment to Icha Icha Tactics. It was the last volume Jiraiya had completed before his death. That fact caused Kakashi to put more care in this book than he did any other Icha Icha book, and he took special care with all of his precious volumes. There were no dog-eared pages, no crinkles, and the binding of the book hadn't been bent out of shape. Now steadfastly engrossed within the pages of the book, Kakashi's instinctual vigilance gave way to the knowledge that his ninken were capable enough to deal with any threat, at any time, before the end of the chapter. He ignored the many growls and scowls gifted to him by the eight dogs sweeping, wiping, stacking, filing, moving, and ultimately doing all the cleaning that Kakashi was supposed to do by himself.  
"I hate you," Pakkun muttered under his breath, while he dragged a particularly heavy orange parcel between his teeth.  
"I heard that," Kakashi drawled, turning another page.  
"You'd think…as—damn it!—" Urushi shouted abruptly, having accidently stabbed his paw with the handle of a spray bottle. He threw the bottle across the floor. "Damn you, Kakashi! Why can't you do your own damn cleaning?" Urushi growled, nursing his pulsing red paw with a few rough licks.  
"Maa…?" Kakashi looked over the corner of the page, ever so slightly, to make sure Urushi hadn't seriously injured himself. The grey dog hopped a bit, with sharp teeth bare and eyes narrowed in on the new Hokage. "But you eight do so well at cleaning battlefields…I thought your skills would cross over…"  
"Like hell you did!"  
"Alright, Urushi," Akino sighed, nudging a stack of papers with a wet snout so that he could rub the dust away from the, otherwise, empty shelf. "There's no point in shouting, bro. It's too early for that." Akino pushed his sunglasses up against the bridge of his nose. "Still, I don't see why we have to do this, either," he frowned, turning on his master. "Why couldn't you just ask Iruka-sensei? He's a lot nicer than you. He would have said 'yes'." Kakashi quickly went back to his book. He didn't need to pay attention to another bout of whining about how Iruka-sensei could do this faster and that faster, and that the chunin would do it with a smile and put a bit of warmth and love into what they dubbed, 'The Frozen Fortress of Ice King Kakashi'. They were his ninken, after all. Why must they praise another ninja, and one of lesser skill for that matter?  
Kakashi found himself responding, regardless. "You're right. What I really thought was how you all spend every waking moment with Iruka-sensei. I assumed he passed all his cleaning expertise onto my ninken." Kakash's eye crinkled into a smile.  
"Wrong, bad man!" Guruko sneered, a wet rag dangling in his mouth. Despite all their protest, Kakashi's ninken worked proficiently and cohesively, while the new Hokage managed to read three more chapters into the Icha Icha series.  
Then, like a whirlwind storm of green and orange, a blur of manly strength burst through the double doors of Kakashi's office and materialized before his desk as the ever immaculately spandex clad, bowl-cut haired man, twinkling at the corner of his pearly white teeth. "My grand Eternal Rival!" Gai-sensei bellowed, causing Kakashi's ninken to cower in annoyance. Already having to dodge the insanity that was the other jounin, nearly all eight ninken now lay on their backs, scratching attentively at their ears.  
Slowly, Kakashi lifted his head from his book. He'd already exerted a shoulder slump, a slow blink, and a long sigh, as he always did when approached by who could be considered a fairly close friend…if you squinted real hard.  
"Gai," Kakashi voiced with a strained smile, receiving a few snickers from the four-legged creatures draping the background. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"  
"I simply had to see it for myself," Gai exclaimed, with his hands on his hips. "Such youthful strength sitting here as our new Hokage, and in the form of my Eternal Rival, no less!" Gai struck a pose. He said with tears of joy, "I never expected this day to come so soon!"  
"Really?" Kakashi muttered with feign interest, unfazed by Gai's theatrical outbursts. "I never expect anything."  
"Really?" Gai looked down, his watery eyes tilted with curiosity.  
Kakashi answered pointedly, "Really."  
Gai didn't delve deep to question Kakashi reasons, and he was thankful for that. Instead, the taijutsu master gave the office a look-around, with a broad smile against his face. When Gai looked towards two wide, rectangular windows, Kakashi watched as the mid-morning light brightened the man's features. Everything from Gai's leg-warmers to his bushy eyebrows glowed with exuberant energy. Kakashi could never quite understand how Gai's very personality managed to bounce off everything that made him visually appalling to look at. It was like staring into the center of a bloody, gruesome battle that was so starkly intense it was nearly impossible to look away. But unlike a battle, Gai always possessed a rather balanced aura; one more tranquil than Kakashi would have ever expected from the outwardly flamboyant man.  
"In any case, I have suffered the ultimate defeat!" Gai chuckled. "After all, you are Hokage now!" Kakashi was thankful that Gai hadn't followed the statement with a low bow. He felt he'd received his unfair share of bows; enough this morning to last what he expected to be a rather short lifespan. He would have rather sent Pakkun out to walk Shizune and Tonton to the village gate but, as Hokage, he felt it was his duty to see the two off. He would have anyway, simply because it was Shizune and Tonton, but out of respect than actually wanting to walk them through the village. Kakashi couldn't help but feel the dozens of eyes watching him from behind pitifully concealed window gaps and alleyways. He walked awkwardly beside the Kunoichi and pig-nin, every now and then, tugging at the foreign fabric of Hokage clothes brushing up against his skin. He couldn't help but think every few seconds why half the village felt it necessary to be awake at the crack of dawn, to coincidently catch him on his first day out wearing something other than the jounin uniform he'd taken for granted all those years.  
Everywhere they passed…those few proprietors setting up their shops stopped with their brooms or their buckets, pressed their shoes together, and bowed lowly. They addressed him as "Hokage-sama" and with the respect he deserved as a Shinobi, but it was more than Kakashi could appreciate. Even the two chunin guarding the gate, Kotetsu and Izumo, offered him congratulations and bowed. "Nevertheless, Kakashi, you make your eternal rival proud."  
"Mm…" Kakashi closed his book and put it away. "I take it you didn't come here just to congratulate me for something I didn't want?" he asked bluntly.  
"Ever the observant one, Kakashi!" Gai snickered, shaking his head. "But, as always, you are one-hundred percent correct! I regret to inform you I was sent here on behalf of the elders. They would like to speak with you."  
"Of course," Kakashi looked off, pitifully into the distance. "They figured no one could avoid someone such as yourself."  
"Who better to collect Hatake Kakashi than myself?" Kakashi had to agree with that, having long ago given up on ever avoiding Maito Gai whenever said man went out of his way to single him out. It was second nature to the jounin to simply relent in the presence of such awesome persistence. "I've also been asked, by Lady Utatane, to personally escort you to their chamber."  
"So, the possibility of escaping is limited."  
"Exactly."  
"Maa," Kakashi whined, climbing out of his Hokage chair, "Seems airtight to me."  
Kakashi gathered himself slowly, just slow enough to stretch the time but subtle enough to make it seem as though he had every intention of meeting the elders on their terms. Little did they know he intended to do everything in his power to distract Gai, with mindless small talk—accepting challenges from the other man, if it came to it—or anything he could think of along the way. True, Gai was just as perceptive and observant as himself, also being an elite jounin, but if there was one thing the spandex-clad man was most exceptional at it was playing along.  
His ninken had already gone back to cleaning, with their heads down in a collective expression of misery, and Kakashi almost felt sorry for them. Almost.  
"I'll be back soon," he said, ignoring the gush of air that hit the back of his legs every time he walked. Not a second went by where he didn't consider ripping the Hokage robes from off of his back and shredding them with his sharpest kunai. "I'll leave you in charge, Pakkun."  
"Why does he get to be in charge?" asked Guruko, pouting like a petulant child.  
"Yeah," Pakkun agreed, now dragging a wet rag lazily beneath his paw. "What if I don't wanna be in charge?" the pug sneered.  
"Alright fine," Kakashi pointed to Guruko. "You can be in charge then. I don't care, but make sure this place is spotless by the time I get back."  
"Nice seeing ya again, Gai-sensei," grouched out Pakkun.  
Gai gave the dogs a salute. "Such hard-working, magnificent creatures…until next time!" Kakashi shut the door on Gai's exclamation, which was a blessing to the eight hounds holding their paws down against their ears. The vibrations of the jounins' footsteps died down and, ever so slowly, Akino, Guruko, Bull, Pakkun, Urushi, Bisuke, Uhei, and Shiba lifted their jowls and shared small knowing smirks with one another.  
Kakashi had never ventured to the elders' chamber, but he imagined it was a cold and dank room, suffocated with dusty air and souvenirs of the past. He didn't ask why Gai knew exactly where an elder's office was or how the elders had happened upon the bushy browed man to begin with. After further speculation, which didn't last very long, Kakashi concluded he really could care less. Apart from walking Tonton and Shizune to the gate this morning, there wasn't anything else he'd given much thought to. Even now, his mind wasn't set on his inevitable destination or Gai following beside him. Kakashi's mind was fixated on a particular page of Icha Icha, where Hiro (the main character) tricked his newest pursuit into believing that she would die soon and without knowing what it felt to be in the throes of passionate love.  
"My youthful, hip eternal rival," Gai sighed happily, much to Kakashi's joyful ignorance, "I thought your ceremony was quite the spectacle, as did many of our fellow peers. The Elders, though…"  
"They want to see my head on a pike," Kakashi calmly replied.  
"In a manner of speaking," Gai cringed. "I assure you, they mean no harm…"  
Kakashi chuckled. "I was being dramatic, Gai. The Elders couldn't defeat me in a paperweight lifting contest, let alone punish me with any great severity."  
"They could order Ibiki and his team to punish you," Gai opted, completely oblivious to the misery glazing over in his friend's one visible eye.  
"I may be in a bit of trouble." Kakashi sulked.  
The two fell into step and walked with relative silence, for most of the short journey between the Hokage offices and the adjacent governmental building situated at the base of the tower. Kakashi was glad to see that, by this time of the day, the novelty of his newly earned title had worn off. Shinobi, left and right, working as pencil pushers and messengers went about their daily routine as though nothing had changed…whatsoever. Kakashi nearly felt the same as he always did, strategically blending into the background. At ease, he whipped his robes from the side of his body, coolly shoving his gloved hands down the pockets of his pants. He gave everyone they passed a lazy eyed stare, as he always did, receiving courteous nods in return.  
"Not to worry, my dear eternal rival!" Gai wrapped an eager arm around Kakashi's shoulder, causing the smaller man to misstep. "You are at the peak of virility, the coolest Hokage Konoha has ever seen!"  
"I fail to see how being cool can save me from Morino-san," Kakashi stated thoughtfully.  
"He found yesterday most entertaining," Gai reassured him.  
"Now you tell me," Kakashi rolled his eye and let out a relieved sigh. Truthfully, he wasn't all that concerned. Ibiki intimidated a lot of high-leveled Shinobi, but he didn't scare Kakashi for one second. Gai gave him another pat on the back and stepped aside, all smiles. Kakashi was vaguely reminded of the many times he decided to put caution to the wind and accompany Gai to the various social gatherings set up by the Shinobi Board. His excuse was that he had nothing better to do and, at least, when he tagged along with Gai the other man talked enough for the both of them. Then, Kakashi would sneak away, unawares, and stand by the snack table where he could read his Icha Icha series in peace.  
He and Gai were night and day, in many respects.  
"They want me for a lecture?" Kakashi found himself asking as the double doors to Elder Mitokado's office drew nearer.  
"They only want to talk," said Gai, a stern smile fixed upon his face.  
He couldn't believe that and, despite all of his nice-guy tendencies, Kakashi suspected Gai wasn't telling the whole truth. He had long grown use to the other jounin conspiring against his peace of mind. He should have known something wasn't right, when Gai disappeared and a force, the pressure of Gai's hands, suddenly pushed him into the cold and dark abyss.  
"Wait a second!" Sharingan swirling beneath his eye-patch, Kakashi's eyes grew wide against the dimly lit room. The smell of polished floor and smoke wood furnishings assaulted the olfactory senses that were so ritualistically hidden behind a dark blue mask. Kakashi would never mistake the two figures situated by a large, sturdy desk, as anyone other than two elders: Mitokado, who sat regally behind it, and Lady Utatane who stood at his side. The only two windows in the room were large and square, glowing with daylight from outside.  
"You're earlier than we expected." No formal greeting, not even a polite one. When the doors closed behind him and he stepped into the light of lanterns hanging on the walls, Kakashi was met with thin-lipped frowns.  
"Lady Utatane," Kakashi regarded her with strained respect, substituting a proper bow with a slow eye blink. "Had you not assigned me an escort, I would have arrived at a time you're more accustomed to."  
"Then you never would have showed up," Mitokado said, clasping his hands together. He looked Kakashi over, with scrutiny. "I see you are wearing the proper clothes for a Hokage. We hope they stand up to your liking."  
"I doubt I'd have a say, regardless of my opinion of them."  
"Do you like the design, at least?" Lady Utatane asked, in a tone as sharp as ever before.  
Kakashi cocked his head to the side and shoved his hands down his pockets once again, flipping aside his Hokage robes in the process. "Suddenly what I'm wearing is all anyone can talk about, these days…"  
"We simply want to ensure that your transition into a role of leadership among the entire village is something of a successful and compliant experience…considering you don't seem all that eager to attend public appearances…"  
"Yeah," Kakashi chuckled slowly and scratched the back of his head, "about that—"  
"Enough!" Elder Mitokado slammed his fist against the desk and furrowed his brow, glaring at the wide-eyed Copy nin. "I would expect you, Kakashi-san, of all people, to honor the traditions of our village. You were elected Hokage, and so you must adhere to the duties of the title." It was more than Kakashi had ever heard from Elder Mitokado, directly. Even the day before, when his clone was being ordered about here and there, Lady Utatane did most of the talking.  
He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, standing before the rather irate elders; basking in how Utatane's wrinkled lips curled with dissatisfaction and Mitokado's shallow face sunk into a deep scowl.  
"This is not how I expected the son of the White Fang to behave. Your father must be rolling in his grave, due to of the disrespect you've shown this village."  
That small sliver of satisfaction quickly vanished, the very moment Mitokado shot from his seat and muttered his father's legendary name. He leered at Mitokado with a stone cold face, causing the other man's anger to falter slightly. It suddenly didn't occur to Kakashi that he was staring down one of the villages' elders, too blinded by need to Raikiri through the nearest wall. What was worst was that he knew that if his father were still alive, not even he would have condoned Kakashi's actions. Traditions were everything to his father and Mitokado, having known the White Fang longer than Kakashi himself, knew this as well.  
That rash surge of anger quickly turned to shame, shame that Kakashi would never admit to, and whatever quick-witted remark lying on the tip of Kakashi's tongue fell to the floor, forgotten.  
"You are the Hokage now, Kakashi-san," spoke Lady Utatane. Her voice drifted through the stiff air with all the insincere softest Kakashi could muster. "You are the Rokudaime. As elders of Konohagakure, and as members of the council who considered your name for nomination, we expect you to act according to the title you have been honored."  
Kakashi looked between the two, long and hard. "Speaking of your nomination," his voice carried angrily across the room, "Why wasn't I informed?"  
Slowly, Mitokado took his seat, eyeing Kakashi with much thought. "It was a matter of time, Kakashi-san," Utatane answered instead, the closed fan in her hand dancing between her fingers. "Konoha is battle ruined, weak, and in low supply of Shinobi. The Fourth Ninja War has revealed to other hidden villages that we are in a vulnerable state. At this time, the absence of a Hokage is not a weakness we can afford," the old woman said sternly.  
"How nice of you to have Konoha's reputation in mind," Kakashi replied in a deadpan tone. "That doesn't explain why I couldn't be informed."  
"We had no time—"  
"There was plenty of time," Kakashi shot back, practically yelling at Mitokado and Utatane. He glared, "I was on a mission. It took days for my return. You could have told my old team; Naruto, Yamato, or Iruka-sensei, but you didn't. You decided to withhold this from everyone, so that you could use this sudden announcement to manipulate the village."  
"We are not manipulating the village," Mitokado frowned.  
"Konoha is mourning the loss of Tsunade-sama, and you know this. Now you're trying to erase the memory of her altogether. You think people don't see this for what it is, putting me in front of the crowds and hoping they'll forget about the fact that the village is in shambles?"  
"How insightful of you, Kakashi," Utatane breathed bitterly. "You let on to convince everyone you're an indifferent man. Perhaps, we were wrong."  
"Perhaps, you placed your name under the wrong man," Kakashi stated, ignoring her words. "Maybe, you were too rash in thinking you could bully me into this; thinking I would roll over like a domestic dog."  
"Not at all," Mitokado breathed, "which is the other reason why we didn't tell you. Had we informed you that your name was up for consideration, you would have done anything to ensure that the other elders would never conform to our wishes."  
"You really know me well," Kakashi said. It was a substitute for what he really wanted to say. Subtle rebellion was one thing, but even Kakashi could not forgive outright disrespect. He was frustrated, angered, and usually the way to rid himself of these unwanted emotions manifested in the form of a mission: he could kill another killer, get paid, and rid himself of these feelings in the process. Then Kakashi was reminded that, as Hokage, the likelihood of him ever being assigned another mission was next to none. "You don't know me at all," Kakashi corrected himself.  
"We don't need to know anything, other than the fact that you are Konoha's strongest warrior," Utatane stepped forward. "You Kakashi, amid so many skilled men and women, stand out for your overall ability and dedication to the village. All of Konoha knows who you are. When enemies hear your name, they cower in defeat." Utatane reached up and graced a hand on Kakashi's shoulder, where he could see the wrinkled skin of her arm, and the liver spots that decorated it, dance in the corner of his eye. "You make this village proud, for your achievements. You defeated Madara, and you helped bring in his last, fallen descendent for the execution he so justly deserves."  
Kakashi stepped away and out of reach.  
Utatane's hand fell to her side. "Is it still not clear, why we chose you?"  
"I didn't ask why you chose me," Kakashi answered, gripping the interior of his pockets.  
Utatane stared at him pointedly. "The question is there, written all over your face."  
"That's half a face," Kakashi pointed out, feeling compelled to correct her over something so trivial. "I've got this eye-patch here too…it's hardly even a quarter," he shrugged. The two elders stared at him blankly, but Kakashi thought it an undeniable argument. For Utatane to say she could read his face was absurd, because he wouldn't be good at his job if she could. Could she really detect all the emotions coursing through him, he wouldn't be the best warrior that Konoha had to offer and, for all intended purposes, his mask would be useless. "Why not nominate Naruto, then? He's proven himself stronger than anyone...he's succeeded even me."  
"Uzumaki has yet to master the skills necessary to be… an effective leader," Mitokado said quickly, brushing away the suggestion. "He is too inexperienced, and however grateful Konoha may be, for his role in this recent war, it is too early to presume the village wouldn't have reservations, if we allowed him to lead our nation."  
"So, instead you chose someone the village would follow blindly, with no questions asked?"  
"Of course…" the moment the uttered words escaped Mitokado's lips it was apparent to Utatane and Kakashi both that he hadn't meant to say them. The old man's face went sour. "No more games, Kakashi," he growled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You can either accept our decisions or not; either way, you are now the Rokudaime. You can uphold the title and lead the hidden leaf village, or demand for your resignation and be done with it."  
"No sir. I'm not going anywhere," Kakashi drawled, glaring back and forth between the elders. "From here on end, I accept and will fulfill the role of the Rokudaime in its entirety. However, I am not some trophy that can be dangled in front of Konohagakure or any other hidden village. I will not just be a Hokage in title, sit back, and allow you and your fellow council members to manipulate the citizens of Konoha from behind the curtains. Also," he paused, and the glare of his eye lowered to a near slant, "I will never back down from fighting for what I believe is right. I will not be your errand boy."  
Lady Utatane folded her arms over her chest and raised a curious brow. "Are you finished?" she asked, as her fan dangled from her wrist by a strong thread.  
"I have nothing more to say," Kakashi said, just as suave as ever.  
"Are you quite certain that you have absolutely nothing more to say to us?" Mitokado pressed on, leaning forward and just a bit over his desk.  
Kakashi sighed, knowing exactly what they wanted to hear. They wanted to hear an apology, he knew, for his absence during yesterday's inauguration. He briefly contemplated how sincere it had to sound, in order to get Elder Mitokado and Lady Utatane off his back. Even now, with no real intention of apologizing, his body fell in line. Kakashi nearly bowed, simply out of habit. "No, nothing else comes to mind. Good day, Elder Mitokado. Lady Utatane," he nodded to them both, before disappearing in a puff of smoke. It was becoming a familiar reaction to the elders, who both produced grave frowns.  
"Hmph," Lady Utatane scoffed, now staring off into the space that used to be Kakashi's solid form. "What a familiar sight. Do you recall…?" she turned to Mitokado. "Hiruzen would react the same way, whenever Tobirama had a bone to pick with him."  
Mitokado sulked, absolutely disgruntled by the memory of his friend's old antics. "There are just too many similarities for anyone's comfort," he complained, resting his chin against the palm of his hand. He stared down at his desk, the unfinished scroll at his tutelage, deep in thought. "Then again…"  
"Hm?" Utatane frowned.  
"He's much more like the White Fang than I initially thought," he admitted. "Sakumo-san would be proud to see that his son has made it this far." He looked up, exchanging curt nods with his remaining team member. "We made the right decision."  
"Of course we did," Lady Utatane gave an unabashed chuckle. "Was there ever a doubt in your mind?"  
"But yesterday…"  
"Yesterday was nothing," she shot back, walking towards the windows. "I honestly expected much worse from the man. As it is, the entire village was amused by his antics."  
"I'm more concerned with the response of our fellow councilmen."  
"Nonsense," Utatane stared out towards the village that was alive with men and women working and children playing; citizens of Konoha, once again, going about their daily lives. Every so often, another sight of destruction met her gaze, but it was quickly followed by the dedicated Shinobi at work to contain and reconstruct the area. "The council can be controlled. They have no real concerns but to further their own agendas."  
"Too true," Mitokado sighed. The chamber room went silent. Mitokado returned to the task laid out on his desk, while Lady Utatane returned to staring out at Konoha, every so often replaying their exchange with Kakashi.  
"Homura-san."  
"Hm?"  
Lady Utatane turned, her brow crooked with curiosity. "Which sensei is Iruka-sensei, again?"

When Kakashi reappeared in his own chambers, amid a cloud of smoke, it looked absolutely nothing like the Hokage office he inherited from the Godaime. The room he now gazed upon, with an eye so wide with disbelief that one would think someone had spoiled the ending of an Icha Icha novel for him, could easily rival the Missions Room at the end of a long work week. The floor was undistinguishable, hidden beneath a sea of loose leaf papers fluttering about. Amongst the mess, chaotically decorating the carpeted floor, lay eight limp ninken sprawled about the room.  
"What the hell…" Kakashi breathed in sharply, as an explainable sense of horror began to suffocate him. The near inaudible response caused Pakkun to stir. The pug flipped from off his back, tossing a few more sheets and scrolls from the desk to the floor. "Pakkun!"  
"Hm? What happened?" With droopy eyes and droopy ears, the pug's stumpy body twisted this way and that, lazily searching the room. When his nose caught hold of Kakashi's scent he snorted and slumped back against the desk. "Oh, it's just you," he yawned, rolling over.  
"Oi!" Kakashi slammed a gloved fist against the table top, effectively startling Pakkun from going back to sleep. "Go to sleep again, and I'll throw you out the window."  
"I'm up, I'm up," the pug insisted, getting to his front paws.  
"Pakkun, what the hell happened here?"  
"Happened where?"  
"What happened here,around you?" Kakashi pinched together the saggy skin at the base of Pakkun's neck and lifted him into the air. Pakkun struggled with great effort, whimpering and whining all the while, but Kakashi felt no pity for the pug in his grasp.  
Pakkun gave the room a sordid stare, and said in a groggy voice, "How would I know, boss? You didn't leave me in charge, remember?"  
"I was gone for maybe all of twenty minutes. Surely you were coherent for the five minutes it took to crap all over my office."  
"No crap...potty trained remember? Ow!" Pakkun yelped, when Kakashi dropped him to the floor. Pakkun crawled away from his wrath as the Rokudaime searched his slumbering hound team for a particularly spastic sleeper. He found Guruko lying in the corner, making a nice and cozy home over a pile of manila files. Kakashi climbed over Shiba and Bisuke's flaccid bodies, glaring at the long-whiskered dog running in his sleep.  
Kakashi kicked him in his rump. "Wake up, you useless mutt."  
Guruko growled, "Hey, what's the big..." he stopped short when he realized the face staring back at him was his rather annoyed master. "Hey, boss," he suddenly grinned. His loud, boisterous tone managed to stir the rest of his brothers, until all eight ninken were in some state of awake. Guruko swung his tail around and sniffed the bottom of Kakashi's pants. "So, how did your meeting go?"  
"It seemed to have faired better than this room, apparently." Kakashi felt the innate need to kick the dog once more, because the cheeky grin on Guruko's face never let up, despite the obvious killer intent radiating from his master. Kakashi pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his one visible eye. "Guruko...I leave you in charge, for less than half and hour. How...why?" Kakashi was having a hard time grasping the unbelievable; all that hard work, exerted from his ninken, through stacking and organizing and filing...it would seem that all the documents and scrolls they compiled together that morning had been thrown across the room in some lavish paper party.  
"Why what, boss?"  
"Why does it look like everything you sad excuse for ninken shuffled together this morning is now on the floor? Are you trying to make me mad?"  
"No! No! Of course not!" Guruko insisted, prodding his nose against Kakashi's leg. "We were working… and then we got bored… so we played a game."  
"A game?" Kakashi frowned, his half-lidded eye falling even lower.  
"He's telling the truth, boss," Uhei said, sauntering over, "but it wasn't really a game. It was a test of wits, strength, and speed. After you left, Gai-sensei came back to chat us up, but we ended up challenging him to a little friendly contest."  
"What was the contest, who can piss me off more?"  
"Of course not," Akino answered, climbing to his feet. "With a challenge like that, there's no telling who would win," he finished, circling around the Hokage. "One minute we were talking, about you, and how you skipped out on your own Hokage ceremony—Gai-sensei thought it was ingenious, by the way."  
"Go on," Kakashi pressed onward, the anger accumulating in his voice. Even the calm and collected Akino had to flinch at the sound of his master's voice and the narrowed glare of his steely grey eye.  
"One moment we were just talking and the next..." Bisuke trailed off, looking for the right words; at least, the right words that wouldn't end with Kakashi tying them to a post at night.  
"The next, what?" Kakashi stared down his elite ninken team.  
Bull shrugged his big bulky shoulders, sidling between his brothers. "The next thing we knew, we were challenging him to see who could stack the most papers in under twenty seconds." Kakashi thanked his good sense to wear a mask, or every airborne bacterium known to man would have made quite the settled home in his gaping mouth. "What?"  
Kakashi couldn't stop staring, never so bewildered by his ninkens' behavior. They'd never acted out with such recklessness before. They were getting cheeky too, Kakashi noted, when it occurred to him that folders and loose paper wasn't all that littered his new office. He could only stand there and wonder how a challenge involving only paper involved mud trailing here and there, all dried in the distinct shape of a dog's paw print. Since when did stacking paper result in crinkled scrolls scattered about the room, soiled in what Kakashi could only pray was water? Was there such a thing as replacement nin hounds? Kakashi was willing to find out. This particular ninken pack had been passed down the Hatake clan bloodline, but the Rokudaime saw no harm in entertaining the decision to have all eight ninken put down.  
Urushi materialized before Kakashi, cackling lowly. "I think we broke him."  
"We're real sorry, boss. We really are," said Shiba as his tongue lapped out and extended, making way for a giant yawn.  
"You're all useless," Kakashi said suddenly, blinking. "I could do without you, you know. Have I told you that before?"  
"Almost every other week, you say that." Pakkun leaped up, climbing his small form up the length of Kakashi's body, before settling over the man's broad shoulder. "It's not true. You love us."  
"You want to bet?"  
"You do know what this means though, don't you?"  
"Dead dog?"  
"Oh, you…young pup," Pakkun chuckled, addressing Kakashi's inquisitive death glare with a grin that lifted the saggy skin about his face. Aside from the occasional hard kick to the gut or harmless strangle, Kakashi did little else to punish them. The human never went out of his way to cause them the misery they consistently caused him. Pakkun and his brothers were older than they looked, having served six generations of the Hatake clan. When Master Sakumo took his life and past on, he left behind his only living descendant: a broken boy who dealt with the loss of his father in a rather unusually detached manner. The pug had always known Kakashi, but it wasn't until that day, did a bond that would last a lifetime, consume them both.  
Pakkun knew Kakashi in and out; knew that, when it came down to it, the boy dealt with fear and rage the way any respectable Shinobi would: on the battlefield. He never lashed out on the people he cared about, individuals who were too far and between for his ninken's liking. Apart from his team and his nin-pack, there weren't many other people Kakashi trusted enough to let his guard down.  
"No dead dogs. What would you do without us?"  
Kakashi sighed, staring at the dog on his shoulder. "What does this mean Pakkun," he asked, expressing his strongest glare and emitting his coldest tone.  
Pakkun shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? Ninken weren't meant to toil away their usefulness in this way. We're an active breed and, apparently, sitting in an office for even a few hours, doing your duty work, makes us a bit…careless. Wouldn't you agree, Kakashi?"  
Kakashi would have gladly screamed into Pakkun's face with an affirmative, but he was more poised than that and refused to give the pug the pleasure. Furthermore, the rest of ninken team had gone back to lounging about, all rolling over documents and pressing their dirty padded feet against sheets of pure white. They continued to watch him, however, secretly entertained with his frustration. To Kakashi's credit, he understood how his ninken functioned just as they understood how he functioned. They were a cretinous lot of the sadistic nature.  
Pakkun gave a long, drawn-out sigh. "I guess you have no other option than to ask Iruka-sensei for his assistance. He is, after all, exceptional at this kind of work." The small dog stretched languidly. "He'd have this place ship-shape in no time. I mean, I doubt even we could put together all the right papers into the right files."  
"I can see how that would be difficult, considering you guys deliberately removed the paperclips," Kakashi hissed, staring intently around the room. Eight pairs of eyes watched him, waiting. "Why do you guys continue to insist I need help from a chunin?"  
"It's not just any chunin," Pakkun drawled. "He's Iruka-sensei."  
"So?" Kakashi shrugged. "What's so special about that?"  
"Are you kidding me?" Shiba yelled out, a mixture of disbelief and annoyance in the canine's face. "Are you blind?"  
"Shiba!" Akino hissed, effectively silencing the other dog. Reluctantly, Shiba stepped back, slumping back against a pile of papers. Kakashi stood confused but not all that interested in the reason or motives behind the actions of his ninken. The look of contempt on his hound's face did very little to intimidate him, considering he could easily release their summoning. More and more, when he found himself annoyed to the point of banishing them, they always retreated to Iruka's home.  
Pakkun continued, "Why do you have a problem with Iruka-sensei helping you?"  
"I don't have a problem," Kakashi corrected. "This is not a problem." He wasn't some weak, pre-genin brat that needed Iruka's assistance. So what if the younger man was an efficient chunin who worked well around mounds and mounds of paperwork, all documented with confusing codes that were in need of proper filing? Who cared that he had a good rapport with the office workers and the business side of the Shinobi world, and it wasn't as if Kakashi couldn't keep track of all the meetings and social functions he would be required to attend now that he was the Hokage of an entire hidden leaf village.  
"It's not about having a problem," Pakkun sulked, irritated that he didn't seem to be getting through to the unusually oblivious man in his charge. "This is about you being insecure…that's it, isn't it?" Pakkun watched Kakashi's face for a reaction, and when he saw the slightest of twitches in the man's normal eye, he was certain he'd prodded the right nerve. "…Being Hokage is a lot to live up to, so it's not surprising you have issues trusting other people with the duties you've been saddled with. All those meetings—all that paperwork—not to mention," Pakkun shrugged, "all the political mumbo-jumbo that will surely ensnare you when you're forced to attend international summits. Tsk, tsk," The pug smiled evilly, but hid it well when Kakashi's shifty-eyed stare threatened to dissect his ruse for what it was.  
Pakkun jumped off Kakashi's shoulder, standing at the head of his brethren. He circled himself briefly and then stood with his two front legs pressed together.  
"Let's face it, Kakashi. You're out of your realm of expertise, when it comes to the role of being a Hokage. As a fighter and a leader, there is none better. But you need help from someone who's used to working behind the scenes. Even Shizune-chan admitted to needing Iruka-sensei's help more often than most, so why not let him assist you."  
Kakashi thought critically through all the valid points Pakkun broached, but it didn't stop the detestation he felt. He wasn't an ignorant man who couldn't submit to reason, he'd just preferred not to when it came to admitting vulnerability. Pakkun had brought up all the Hokage responsibilities that Kakashi had mentally blocked out, until now. It was inevitable, and Kakashi's habit of always trumping the odds with being prepared and learned, he knew, would eventually overshadow the desire to be defiantly reckless.  
"You only want Iruka-sensei around to be pampered," Kakashi weakly argued.  
"If that were true, we'd just follow him around all day. He wouldn't mind. We could help him in his classes… and with desk duty." Pakkun grinned. Kakashi refused to give his ninken the satisfaction, by pointing out that helping with desk duty would be eerily similar to what they were supposed to have accomplished here.  
"Maa…I hate every single one of you," the Shinobi drawled.  
"No ya don't," Pakkun rolled his eyes. "So, what's your decision?"  
"What's my decision on what?"  
"Will you ask Iruka-sensei to assist you now?"  
Kakashi blinked and went to speak, but when he looked to his ninken once more each were leaning forward with different levels of suspense in the glossy gleam of their eyes. He'd never seen them so anxious, so excited, not since admitting they forgot what he looked like behind his mask and asking Kakashi to let them see his face. Kakashi didn't know the memory spans of canine but, if his hounds were any testament, it wasn't very long. He had to admit that Pakkun was right about one thing: he was unskilled in the art of office work and cared little for proper political etiquette.  
Kakashi's eyes roamed the room once more. He vowed to deal with Gai later, but thought quickly of how he could punish his dogs and came up empty. "I guess I could go speak with him now," he muttered with his hands on his waist. Guruko barked and smiled like all the other ninken. Kakashi sighed, "Yes, I should do that."  
"Yes you should!" Guruko agreed, practically dancing in one spot.  
Kakashi found himself smiling with eerie fakeness, as his visible eye crinkled suspiciously. "I'm sure Iruka-sensei will appreciate having to clean this mess you made… like that mud track I see there, running up the wall." Kakashi watched as eight smiles faltered simultaneously. "Knowing how nice and loving you all say Iruka-sensei is, I'm certain he'll thank you for what I'm sure is nothing but an effortless workout for him." With that Kakashi vanished, leaving his ninken to wallow in their self-made misery. Pakkun, Shiba, Bull, Urushi, Uhei, Bisuke, Guruko, and Akino looked between one another, knowing what they had to do.  
"That jerk," Uhei scoffed.  
"I don't want to punish Iruka-sensei," Bisuke pitifully whimpered against his two front paws.  
"Come on, fellas," Bull groused, getting up. "You know what we gotta do."  
"This sucks," Urushi scowled but, like his brothers, quickly went to work cleaning up Kakashi's office. They couldn't reorganize documents, since they couldn't tell what went with what, but the least they could do was get rid of the mud, the dirt, and stack everything into neat piles.  
"He's so stupid, it's beyond comprehension," Pakkun sighed, going about his work.  
Seven dogs replied in unison, "Agreed."  
Chapter Four  
Iruka found himself bustling about the classroom, during the long lunch break between morning and afternoon classes. Suzume-san, a fellow co-worker of his, invited him to lunch but he respectfully declined. He wasn't particularly hungry, too concerned with successfully getting through the school day. The chunin sensei felt even worse, thinking that his less than enthusiastic attitude was affecting his class. They too seemed downtrodden and more subdued than any class Iruka had ever taught. Despite himself, Iruka spent all morning praying for the moment he could dismiss his students for their afternoon break.  
He sighed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.  
The students' play and idle laughter was like music to his ears, drifting in by way of an open window. Iruka felt it a blessing that young minds could be so fickle during times of great hardship. None of the children out there now, running around with their friends and playing ninja, were thinking about how their village was suffering. When he leaned up against the windowsill and allowed his gaze to scan the training fields that surrounded the Academy, he was glad to see so many bright smiles and glowing faces. Despite his own distress, he wanted his students to be happy and thankful for the day that so many lives had sacrificed to protect of their village.  
"Is it not a fine afternoon, Iruka-sensei."  
"Ack!" Iruka yelped, stumbling from the windowsill. He did what any caught off-guard Shinobi would do and swiftly pulled a kunai from his vest. He charged the new arrival, who countered with speed and efficiency. He found his hand gripped tightly with a larger, paler, fingerless gloved hand of another, as he was pulled forward to stare deep into the one visible eye of a masked man. The eye smiled at him, while the tip of his weapon rested just centimeters from the dark grey lashes lining the eye-lid. Below the eye sat a silver brow that sunk into a shock of silver hair. Iruka froze, staring into the upside down face of the one and only Hatake Kakashi.  
"Attacking your Hokage, neh Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi's voice jolted Iruka from his stupor, causing the Academy teacher to shuffle back into the room. Kakashi smiled behind his mask, amused by the unease glistening in Iruka's eyes and the faint blush upon the other man's face. He flipped into the classroom, landing square on his feet, and regarded the academically furnished environment with some consideration. All the while, Iruka readjusted himself, respectfully distant and standing with his hands together.  
He addressed the robed man, bowing deeply. "My apologies, Hokage-sama. I-I should have anticipated your arrival," he finished with another bow. Kakashi frowned, the genuine smile behind his mask and the crinkle in his eye falling to an unexplainable bout of disdain. It annoyed him, the way the village people responded to his title, but watching Iruka subdue himself in the same manner brought on dissatisfaction he couldn't understand. It was demanded that some low-level chunin show the Hokage the respect he was entitled to. Iruka had done exactly that, so why did seeing the younger man with his head bowed low and his shoulders hunched forward bother Kakashi so much?  
So troubled was the jounin that he felt obligated to comment on it. "Is that it, then?" he began, stepping farther into the room. "Are you going to address me as Hokage-sama and bow whenever I enter a room?"  
Iruka's eyes shot up, confused. "With all due respect, Kakashi-san, you are Hokage now."  
"Of course…why would Iruka-sensei ever break his good-boy streak, eh? He's such a goody-goody two shoes. He would never defy the customs of Konoha."  
"Hokage-sama…" Iruka's voice emitted lowly; strained, the way it did whenever Kakashi was treading in deep water. The jounin stepped even closer, entertained by the way Iruka's temple pulsed, but he wasn't satisfied just yet.  
"What? Is there something harmless Iruka-sensei would like to say? Maa…he could never disrespect the Hokage…"  
"You're making it difficult not to," Iruka scowled, averting his gaze. Kakashi smirked and stepped forward, ever so slightly, until he could see down the bridge of Iruka's scarred nose.  
"What was that, Iruka-sensei? I can't hear you when you're mumbling. I guess it's hard to tell me off, since I am now the Hokage." Kakashi hummed with sadistic glee. He looked at the weapon and the soft toned hand practically strangling it. "Are you going to come at me with that kunai?" he drawled lazily. He added a soft chuckle, knowing it would only cause Iruka to blush like mad. The chunin's dark eyebrows couldn't possible rumple together anymore, without threatening to become one, and the Rokudaime noted things that distinguished Iruka from all the other Shinobi he knew. Most interesting was the way Iruka's mouth curled at the corner of his lips, whenever the anger in him threatened to boil over. Making Iruka mad wasn't complete until a gleam of mischief resurfaced in the chunin's brown eyes, so Kakashi wasn't doing his job if Iruka didn't look ready to lash out by any means necessary.  
"You shouldn't sneak up on someone like that," Iruka dangerously hissed. "I could have killed you back there."  
"Tch…No you couldn't," Kakashi scoffed, smirking. "I am the Hokage, the strongest Shinobi of the village, and you are an Academy teacher that tends to scraped knees and bruised elbows."  
"You…are an ass," Iruka scowled. "That's what you are."  
"Mission accomplished," Kakashi sighed with content. Iruka shoved his kunai back into his vest and turned on his heel, storming off towards his desk. Kakashi shuffled forward, smiling, and followed Iruka at a safe distance.  
"What do you want, Kakashi-san."  
"I'm shocked, Iruka-sensei," he murmured with feigned surprise. "How can you address your Hokage with such a harsh tone?"  
"Shut up, or tell me why you're here," Iruka shot back, not missing a beat. He quickly made use of himself, going back to separating papers into piles of three different assignments. Kakashi watched him, feeling strangely out of place when Iruka worked so mind-numbingly effortlessly.  
"Aren't you going to say something about my outfit?" Kakashi asked, surprising himself, but he expected the chunin to have said something about his new attire.  
Iruka, however, didn't even stop to look up. "Would you like me to say something about your outfit?"  
"Not at all," Kakashi shrugged, his left hand reaching back to ruffle his hair. He glided his fingers through the shocking clumps of grey and sighed. "You are socially repetitive and, from what I've observed, have a knack for stating the obvious. I thought you, of all people, would have expressed some manifestation of shock towards the foreign color patterns I'm wearing."  
Iruka froze and the papers in his hands went limp. "It's a wonder how you manage to become Hokage, when your day is packed with so many Shinobi irrelevant activities," he continued shuffling papers.  
"Watching people is relevant to being a Shinobi."  
"Oh...Does it branch off as a practice for reconnaissance? Or are you arguing it's merely an exercise in keeping tabs on the enemy?" Iruka suggested sarcastically, going about sifting through student work.  
"Don't be ridiculous," Kakashi jeered, eyeing Iruka suspiciously. "Watching other people helps me keep track of where they are so that I can avoid them."  
"I think Jiraiya-sama used that excuse once, but it didn't stop him from landing a spare bed in the hospital." Kakashi bulked, but he thought of only one woman that could put Jiraiya in a hospital bed: a busty, blonde bombshell that, chronologically, probably aged older than mummy dust. But Tsunade never believed anything Jiraiya did to be anything but perverse, so it would have been foolish for Ero-sennin to use that excuse on Tsunade, to begin with.  
Iruka heaved a great sigh. "Your outfit is presentable; functional," the chunin blushed. "Hanging from a windowsill in three-layered robes isn't something everyone can do." Kakashi chuckled, genuinely amused. Iruka looked him up and down, and the faint heat in his face managed to grow. "It's a shame you didn't wear this during the ceremony you failed to attend," he frowned.  
"I bet you went hysterical," Kakashi imagined, "when it was apparent that I wasn't actually there."  
"No, I didn't. I mean, I wasn't…" Iruka struggled to find the right words. He shook his head. "I was glad, actually, when it turned out not to be you." He placed the last piece of paper on top of the middle stack. Kakashi could see the vague outline of chicken scratch writing and pitiful geometrical shapes. It looked like his mission reports sans the crude drawings. "I know that may surprise you, Kakashi-san, since I'm so predictably by the book…"  
"I hear you didn't used to be."  
A soft smile adorned Iruka's features. "Keep in mind then that I can make your life a living nightmare, if I wanted to."  
"You're now threatening your Hokage, sensei?" Iruka rolled his eyes, busying himself with ignoring Kakashi. He walked away from his desk and pass the Copy nin, now focusing on the chalkboard littered with writing. "You should be careful. I can have Anbu guards summoned to take you away whenever I see fit."  
"Show some mercy, and have them take me away now," Iruka muttered over his shoulder. He picked up an eraser and proceeded to wipe away at the white chalk. Kakashi watched him, intently, and how chalk particles dissolved into puffs of thin air. The Academy teacher wiped away in a back and forth, half circle motion; up and down and side to side, until the entire board was relatively clean.  
Kakashi leaned back against a student desk, staring at the Konoha crest stitched into the back of the vest he borrowed only a few nights ago. "You were surprised, at least."  
"Surprised by you, Kakashi-san? Never."  
"You were surprised that it turned out to be a kage bunshin."  
"A lot of people were surprised," Iruka turned, setting the eraser down on the wooden receptacle, "but I also know that there are very few people who expected anything more from you, Kakashi-san... Thank you."  
"For what?"  
"For not showing up," Iruka explained. The passive expression, the look Kakashi knew easily led strangers to believe Iruka incapable of scorn or wrongdoing, turned into a glimmer of frustration. "I wasn't shocked when Elder Mitokado named you the Rokudaime, but I never expected the announcement to happen during Tsunade-sama's funeral. It was insensitive and an insult to her memory to place your inauguration so close to her funeral ceremony."  
"Right after," Kakashi reminded him.  
"Right after!" Iruka growled, pacing back and forth. "I mean, what were they thinking? I understand the need to reinstate a new Hokage, and everything, but this transition could have been made with more discretion. Wouldn't you agree?"  
"I—"  
"Usually the village is given a week to mourn the loss of their Hokage, and yet we're thrown right back into duty. They couldn't sacrifice a week to show proper last respects? You know what I think?" Iruka suddenly stopped, startling Kakashi because his eye had been following his back and forth pacing.  
"I—I don't know," he admitted dazedly, "Your mind is moving faster than mine, apparently."  
Iruka lowered a shaking finger with embarrassment. "Sorry, Kakashi-san," he said, his tone much softer than before. Instead of that fervent glare, there was only helpless misery in Iruka's eyes. "It's inappropriate of me to speak ill of the elders, I know, but their actions of late have been questionable, at best," he finished, averting his gaze.  
Kakashi looked onward, thoughtfully. He could admit that watching Iruka was somewhat of a pastime, but the chunin proved to be more fascinating than his profession led anyone to believe. The man could be rather insightful. It was no wonder that Naruto's graduating class, the Rookie 9, proved to be such critical, opinionated ninjas.  
"Kakashi-san?" Iruka's voice broke into his thoughts.  
"You shouldn't apologize, Iruka-sensei. It's a sign of weakness."  
"Of course," Iruka muttered, biting fury in his tone. "I should keep that in mind when it comes to you, Kakashi-san." His glare had returned, staring the Copy nin down angrily.  
Kakashi shook his head, "I didn't mean to insult you, Iruka-sensei. It's merely a cold hard fact."  
"It's not a fact. That's an opinion."  
"In our world, it's a fact; a harsh one, but a fact nonetheless."  
Iruka pushed away from his desk. "Says you, Kakashi-san," he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.  
"Says me and any ninja you'll ever run into, Iruka-sensei." Kakashi lifted himself from the desk he'd been leaning on, approaching Iruka slowly. "It just so happens that the Hokage, me, also knows this to be true. I know you're idealistic, but even you can't be so naïve."  
"Even me?" Iruka sneered, laughing darkly. "Are you going to tell me now how I'm too sensitive and how much of a weakness that is? Oh wait…you already did that, didn't you? The night before, and the day before that, and the day before that…" Like a slow moving predator, an increasingly angry chunin sensei began to advance on Kakashi, and he found himself incapable of escaping Iruka's sharp stare. "Honestly, I don't know why I put up with you, Kakashi-san," he shook, his voice rising ever so steadily. Kakashi, elite jounin and newest Hokage of Konoha, watched with fearful fascination as Iruka stepped closer and closer, until a chalk covered finger was violently prodding him in the chest. "If it wasn't for Naruto, I wouldn't suffer through an opinionated jerk such as yourself, and for a Hokage to say something like that!" Iruka yelled.  
"Maa…Iruka-sensei," Kakashi tried to subdue the younger man, but Iruka didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.  
"With world views like that, you'll never be half the Hokage Tsunade-sama was! She was like the Third: caring, understanding, and compassionate. Tsunade-sama knew that not everyone was the same, just as he did—!"  
"Iruka!"  
Kakashi gripped Iruka's wrist, to stop the man from stabbing a hole straight to his heart. Then he pulled him forward.  
"That's enough!" He demanded, effectively silencing the Academy teacher. Iruka slumped, slightly, and his head sunk low. It caused his ponytail to bob forward and hover in the air. Kakashi couldn't see his face, but he could tell that Iruka was wracked with emotions, more emotions than needed to waste on a jounin with an ego. "Iruka, stop it, now. You're going overboard."  
"No…I'm not," he said weakly, but it was apparent in his voice that he had. Kakashi didn't know what to address first: the insults or the crippling chunin standing before him. He didn't let go of Iruka's wrist either, feeling the warm skin there and mindlessly kneading it with his bare fingers. He raised their connected limbs at arms length, just in case Iruka decided to start jabbing at him some more. He would never admit that being poked in the chest with all the fury Umino Iruka had to offer hurt like hell, especially now that Kakashi no longer wore a vest.  
He thought back to the Iruka's words and momentarily thought to counter argue about how true Shinobi were not compassionate; did not care and were not understanding, particularly, when the enemy was begging for their life. Deep down, the Kakashi he once was in his youth, before Obito's death, threatened to come forward and make this point. The jounin found he struggled with that Kakashi more often than most, especially since spending more time with ninja like Iruka and Naruto.  
But watching the man now, and the rise and fall of his shoulders, Kakashi fought internally to agree with the copper skinned chunin. After all, to some degree, Iruka's declaration of compassionate, caring Hokages seemed true enough. The late Sarutobi-sama was nothing but a great man who cared too much, and he loved and cared for many of the broken Shinobi in his village. Kakashi had been one of them. Like the Sandaime, Tsunade stressed the need to care about your fellow ninja with just as much emphasis. Maybe he didn't know exactly why Iruka was so personally devoted to the Godaime, or the relationship they shared, but the chunin didn't speak falsely of the Godaime being a compassionate leader. Then there was the Fourth, his own sensei, who was a man who cared for Kakashi and understood him more than anyone the jounin had ever met.  
Maybe Kakashi would never be as compassionate, caring, or as great as his predecessors, which was something he knew the very moment Mitokado announced him the Rokudaime. It never bothered him before, knowing that the Shinobi he succeeded were difficult to surpass even in life. But why did it bother him so much, to hear Iruka say the things he already knew? Even if the man was emotionally compromised and said what he said out of hurt than with any actual validity, why did Kakashi have to swallow hard and force a familiar feeling of shame down his chest?  
"Iruka-sensei," Kakashi began, but he didn't know what to say. Finding the right words became all the more difficult when he noticed the smallest droplet of salty water fall through the air and plant itself on the worn wooden floor. It was soon accompanied by a few more droplets, until that one circular bead morphed into an amoeba of water sinking into the floorboard. Kakashi didn't need Iruka wiping violently at his eyes to know the man was crying.  
"I apologize, Kakashi-san," Iruka muttered, and Kakashi did well to just keep his trap shut about his feelings about apologies.  
"You don't need to apologize, Iruka-sensei."  
"Yeah, I know, because it only shows how weak I am."  
"No, you shouldn't apologize to me…because you're right." Iruka's face lifted into view, revealing eyes tightly constricted from shedding anymore tears. There was a lot more sorrow etched in Iruka's brow, more than from the night before. He was keeping everything in, which was unusual for a man who wore feelings on his sleeves Konoha emblems. Kakashi couldn't remember the last time he ever cried about anything. Every now and than, a particularly memorable mission left him at a loss for words, too choked up by the bitter taste of victory and the acrid smell of death. Kakashi never had the luxury to cry the way Iruka-sensei did.  
Just like the chunin's powerful words, Kakashi found himself affected by Iruka's glistening gaze, where the smallest glint of disbelief waded in his eyes. The paler man sucked in a breath, unbelievably transfixed by the man before him. It was getting difficult to breathe and difficult to blink. Despite the heavy robes shrouding his body, the mask on his face, and the eye-patch over his left eye, Kakashi felt more exposed than ever before.  
The heat of Iruka's wrist managed to spread through Kakashi's fingertips; into the bone in his wrist, up his arm and throughout the rest of his body. The same heat permeated the air, resonating from Iruka's slack form. Was this some sort of jutsu, to be such a warm-blooded creature? Kakashi had to wonder, because he was a mammal yet never burned with such intensity. He slowly lowered their arms, but he didn't let go, too fascinated with the connection made at the contact of their hands.  
At long last, Iruka muttered, "Of course I'm right," while dabbing away a few more unsuccessful tears. He didn't know what to think, his mind going blank after such a strong wave of sadness. The feelings were accumulating, ever since his day began, but he never expected to make an outburst like that. He was only so grateful that he didn't break down during class time, but breaking down in front of Kakashi certainly was a thousand times worse. He closed his eyes and, with a deep breath, managed to subdue himself. When he looked up again, Kakashi was staring at him in a strange way. "What…?"  
Kakashi couldn't explain why, but he started chuckling. When Iruka stared at him with surprise and bewilderment, he found himself chuckling even harder. Iruka blushed but smiled, nonetheless, and was somehow infected with the same unexplainable affliction. He too chuckled until, eventually, the two were laughing together. Kakashi's laugh was strong but low, and Iruka's was light and soft. Suddenly everything was funny and Kakashi, who never responded with more than an insincere chuckle, felt at ease while watching the inspiration of his laughter.  
What he felt never went away, not even when the laughter died down, and Kakashi found he was more engrossed with watching Iruka than ever before. Maybe he'd never understand why his ninken were so attached to the man, or why other Shinobi like Yamato and Shizune were so quick to defend him, but the felt in his chest was unlike any injury he suffered in battle. This was exhilarating; making that muscle in his chest beat just a little faster, and all without having to kill another human being. Then, when Iruka's laughter dissolved into a chuckle which died down into a smile that flickered with doubt, it was something of a challenge for him to see how he could comfort the younger Shinobi. "You still grieve, more than most, for Tsunade-sama."  
"I guess I do, Kakashi-san," Iruka admitted softly.  
"Mm…" Kakashi grumbled, thoughtfully. "You're so busy making sure that everyone else is alright that you forget to take care of yourself." Iruka didn't respond but he blushed again, and that was all the verification Kakashi needed. "You should not have come to work today."  
"I had no choice. I may not like the elders' decision, but Konoha needs all the educated pre-genin it can get right now. The Shinobi shortage is massive, and I would rather teach my class than pull a substitute from the regular ranks." Then Iruka paused, regarding Kakashi curiously. "I thought you, being the Rokudaime, would have known that everyone had been ordered to return to work today."  
"No," Kakashi shrugged, lifting his brow, "I had no clue." He was clueless but not surprised. This was the sort of undermining he expected from the elders and the council as a whole. Where did you go to discuss these things, anyway? It's not like they stopped by his office. Did they expect him to go to their chambers? Where were their chambers, anyway? Kakashi didn't really want to know, either, but if the council thought they could make decisions without his Hokage Seal of Approval, they were tragically mistaken.  
"Kakashi-san?"  
"Mm?"  
"Do you plan on letting go of my arm, anytime soon?" Iruka asked in a docile tone, smiling weakly.  
Instead of letting go, Kakashi's firm grasp grew firmer, while running his fingers playfully up and down, rubbing over the bony ends of Iruka's wrist. He expected the chunin to grow agitated and annoyed, because he was teasing him. Instead, Iruka reacted in a strange way, growing flustered and blushing madly by the second. "You're not going to poke me again, are you?" he asked suspiciously.  
Iruka's face went red, "I'll try not to, Kakashi-san."  
Slowly, Kakashi let go of Iruka's wrist, regretting it the very moment they parted. That link was disconnected, and Kakashi grew cold. Without thinking, Kakashi stepped back a bit, placing the palms of his hands against Iruka's shoulders. He ignored the look of confusion on Iruka's face, the way the man's eyes followed his every move. Kakashi mentally cursed himself for what he was doing. He was always appalled with how Iruka made him act in ways he'd have himself hospitalized for. Maybe the ultimate attraction to Umino Iruka was his unconscious ability to manipulate everyone around him. If that was the case, Iruka was a better Shinobi than Kakashi gave him credit for.  
Before he could talk himself out of it, Kakashi pulled Iruka forward, capturing the man in an awkward embrace. It was another attempt at being more human. He could sense the shock in Iruka's still form, but he wouldn't let go, holding him closer. Kakashi could be a caring Hokage, if he tried really really hard. He even felt a strange and foreign sense of accomplishment, when Iruka's rigid form went lax and eased into his amateur embrace. Iruka's temple brushed up against his shoulder, and Kakashi could feel that familiar heat seep into his covered neck. He reached up, holding Iruka's head in the palm of his gloved hand. Kakashi saw Iruka's hand move upward and thought that the Academy teacher might go back on his word and jab him again, before that tan hand, still covered in bits of chalk, settled against his chest. The pressure was shocking, like sparks of lightning, but it was electricity Kakashi couldn't push away, and that was exhilarating.  
"Thank you." Iruka's gentle voice vibrated throughout his entire body.  
"You're welcome," Kakashi said, stumped to find anything else to say. He felt a sense of validity, when Iruka thanked him. He momentarily forgot he was the Hokage of an entire village and a Shinobi all together. Just being human wasn't so bad. He liked to torment the man, but it wasn't Kakashi's style to trouble Iruka when he was already torturing himself. Standing there, caring for Iruka the way a compassionate Hokage would, forced Kakashi to realize that comforting the chunin was just as equally gratifying.  
In the silence, Kakashi could hear the distant sound of children playing; Iruka's class, no doubt. He'd seen a few on his way over, but the pre-genin were two busy playing ninja to actually be real ones and notice the Hokage landing on the roof of their classroom.  
Iruka's head shifted sideways, so Kakashi readjusted his hold. He looked down and grinned, satisfied with how effective he was at making Iruka feel better. He felt less awkward now, as though he'd done this before. "…Lunch break is almost over."  
"I can stop by Ichiraku's and get you a take-away bowl, if you'd like," Kakashi quickly offered, pulled from his reverie.  
"No, that's alright," Iruka looked surprised, but he declined just as quickly. "I-I wasn't feeling very hungry today." Kakashi nodded, understanding now why Iruka wouldn't be hungry. The younger man was plagued with grief. There was nothing more important to Kakashi than duty but, were he the chunin, he would have skipped out on coming to work and left instructions for the substitute to give endless amounts of pop quizzes before the day's end.  
"Are you sure?" Kakashi found himself asking, without reason. If Iruka wasn't hungry then he wasn't hungry, so why keep asking?  
"Yes," Iruka nodded, wearing a warm smile on his face. It was something of a phenomenon Kakashi hadn't seen for some time now. "I'm sure. But thank you."  
"Don't mention it." Kakashi really didn't want Iruka to mention it, to anyone. No matter how many times Naruto whined that he was too worn out from training to get his own meals, he never caved in light of the stupid blonde's begging. Kakashi did nothing for no one, so long as the person in need had two arms and two legs and, even then, many Shinobi who lost a limb in battle went on to lead relatively normal lives. Kakashi didn't help anyone, unless their life was in danger. Maybe he could argue that Iruka would die from starvation if he hadn't offered…  
"I mentioned that break is almost ending, Kakashi-san, because class is about to resume. Is this a social visit?" Kakashi frowned, disappointed when Iruka pulled away. He quickly brushed it aside, giving the sensei a crinkled-eye smile.  
"Maa…not exactly," Kakashi said mischievously, fearing Iruka's suspicious gaze. "I had an epiphany, earlier today," he began, pocketing his hands.  
"An epiphany," Iruka muttered, one dark thin brow lifting into his hairline. "What was this epiphany about?" the chunin asked, despite his skepticism.  
"It's not as though I was lounging about, hiding from the elders, until the Hokage ceremony was over," Kakashi insisted, but it didn't look like Iruka believed that either. "I had a lot of time to think yesterday, about what it means to be Hokage."  
"It means," Iruka grumbled, his eyes traveling upward; gazing from the dark blue pattern stitching of Kakashi's dress wrap, to the even darker blue mask covering his face, "leading an entire nation: the hidden leaf village. It means putting Konoha first and sacrificing personal wellbeing, to protect your people. You have to be willing to compromise with the ninja world; otherwise, nothing can be accomplished, and even when people expect you to charge into battle first, the Hokage must be critical and tactful about his decisions. Most of all," Iruka finished pointedly, "a Hokage must be as compassionate as he is strong."  
"I was with you all the way up until that last part."  
Iruka rolled his eyes. "You were saying something about an epiphany?"  
"Right…" Kakashi mused, but his thoughts were jumbled. If Pakkun brought up the responsibilities of a Hokage that Kakashi was trying to avoid, then Iruka just mentioned parts of being a Hokage that Kakashi hadn't even considered. Suddenly being a leader that could compare to the Hokages before him seemed an impossible feat. "There are a lot of responsibilities, as Hokage, that aren't all as obvious as assigning missions. I know that sounds unforgivably ignorant," he added because of the amusement in Iruka's eyes, "but I honestly thought being Hokage meant I could just do whatever I wanted, and people had to follow my orders."  
"How unfortunate for you, Kakashi-san," Iruka muttered, not an ounce of sincerity in his voice.  
"I know," Kakashi sighed, regardless. "Turns out there are piles and piles of paperwork a Hokage has to fill out… not to mention meetings, and then there are public appearances. You have to admit: not even the strongest, most valiant Shinobi could ever be prepared to take on the role of a Hokage."  
Iruka blinked. "You really are unbelievable, Kakashi-san."  
"Thank you," Kakashi smiled, "but despite all my greatness, it would seem that I'm in need of assistance. So…how about it?"  
"Eh? How about what?" Iruka asked sourly, his face twisted in confusion.  
Kakashi braced himself, since asking for help was never something he did well. Being self-sufficient and self-reliant was all Kakashi ever wanted to be, which was why it was easier to force his ninken to do his work, rather than ask some chunin to help him be a competent Hokage. Iruka was staring at him, patiently, when the words fell from his mouth. "Be my assistant."  
"Kakashi-san," Iruka gasped. The Hokage smiled behind his mask, certain that the disbelief in Iruka's eyes was a good thing. Maybe Iruka felt honored. Perhaps his ninken were right, and Iruka would have willingly offered up his services from the get-go. Who wouldn't want the privilege of assisting the Hokage, anyway? You couldn't get any closer to top tier, than taking top tier's notes and scheduling top tier's meetings. Iruka was a chunin and a low-leveled one at that. Of course he'd say 'Yes'. "No."  
"What?"  
"I said 'No', Kakashi-san: that's N-O…I know, an accomplished jounin like yourself isn't used to hearing the word, but no… I respectfully decline your offer," and with that, Iruka walked away, returning to his desk. Kakashi watched him go, but he was unable to grasp the chunin's decision.  
"What do you mean by 'No'?" he asked, like there was any other definition for the two-letter word.  
Iruka had to stare in disbelief. "I mean no, Kakashi-san. I decline; I don't want to be your assistant—no way, no how. Is that clear enough for you?" he asked haughtily, pressing his hands against his desk.  
Kakashi frowned. "Why wouldn't you want to be my assistant?"  
"Why would I want to be your assistant?" Iruka counter-argued.  
The jounin searched for reasons but came up empty. "I asked first."  
Iruka rolled his eyes, because arguing with Kakashi was like arguing with a child. It was almost as though one of his students had stayed behind during break just to pester him…but then said student took it upon himself to help ease the hardship of Tsunade's passing, holding him when he could no longer control his emotions. Iruka blushed, recalling the way he practically collapsed into Kakashi's embrace. But he never thought Kakashi would be that kind.  
He rubbed his eyes again to make sure they weren't even remotely damp; otherwise, his students would never stop asking questions about why their sensei had been crying. Iruka didn't think he could get any redder, thinking of how he practically sobbed on Kakashi's shoulder. No wonder the jounin thought he was weak, and that frustrated him more than anything else. So he looked towards his Hokage, a defiant gleam in his eyes. "You want to know why I won't work for you."  
"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked," Kakashi sighed lazily.  
"That's why," Iruka frowned. "That's why I can't work for you. You don't respect me."  
Kakashi rolled his eyes, trying to hide his astonishment. "You refuse to be my assistant because you think I don't respect you?"  
"I don't think, I know," Iruka replied in a dangerous tone.  
"I respect you."  
Iruka scoffed, "No you don't."  
"Yes I do."  
"No you don't."  
"Yes I do."  
"No you don't."  
"Yes I do."  
"You think of me as just some naïve, low-level chunin that worries too much and complains about everything!" Iruka exclaimed, his arms falling to his sides.  
Kakashi grew even more confused than before. "Well…aren't you?"  
Iruka's jaw dropped, appalled. "I can't believe you actually thought…" he didn't know who he was angrier at: Kakashi or himself, for thinking there was an ounce of sensitivity in the steely eyed man lounging before him. Swallowing what was left of his pride, Iruka straightened out his vest and smiled coldly. "Well, Hokage-sama, it was an honor to have you here in my classroom, but seeing as my classes are about resume I think it best that you leave. You should go, before my students get worked up over seeing a celebrity up close and personal."  
Kakashi cringed, not knowing what pained him more: the coldness of Iruka's smile or the icy glare in his eyes. Iruka's thunderous steps caused Kakashi to flinch.  
"Allow me to guide you to the exit you're more accustomed to," the chunin mocked, pointing towards the window. "Have a nice day."  
"Iruka-sensei—"  
"Please leave."  
The chunin had resorted to his official "Sensei tone", which, Kakashi learned, was never a good thing. He found himself obeying Iruka's wishes, even when he could refuse to leave and there wasn't much the chunin could do about it. Iruka wouldn't actually retaliate on a Hokage, would he…would he? Kakashi didn't like this, and not just because Iruka refused to be his assistant. He could hire someone to be his assistant; a woman, probably, who'd spend every waking moment trying to understand him and get a look at his face. No, Kakashi quickly stripped the mental suggestion from his mind. He wouldn't be able to acquaint himself with some infuriating stranger, not when he already knew Iruka. Half the work was already done.  
Kakashi edged towards the window, facing the shorter man, while Iruka stood with one hand planted firmly on his hip. His other hand still hovered in the air, pointing to the way he expected Kakashi to leave. "Iruka-sensei, hear me out."  
"I don't want to hear you out, Kakashi-san. I would like you to leave."  
"I'm the Rokudaime," Kakashi said defiantly. "You can't refuse me."  
"Are you serious?" Iruka scoffed. "You may be the Rokudaime, Kakashi-san, but that doesn't entitle you to do or say whatever you please; and yes, I can." Tired with arguing, Iruka moved to leave him at the window. He had more important things to deal with than egotistical jounins who weren't used to the word 'No'. Any minute now, a class of twenty kids would come bustling back into the room, and Iruka needed to catch them off-guard with assignments and a lecture before he lost them to the afternoon lull. "Find someone else," he shot over his shoulder.  
"Listen," Kakashi reached out and grabbed Iruka's arm, causing the younger man to stumble backwards. One moment saw him glancing at the clock above the classroom door and, in this moment, he was transfixed, staring deep into the gaze of one steely grey eye. "There isn't anyone else, Iruka-sensei. You know Shizune-san left this morning."  
"I know…I'm beginning to see why."  
"She said you occasionally helped Tsunade with her workload, so I figured you could assist me the same way she assisted the Godaime. People say you're exceptional at this kind of work."  
"What kind of work would that be?" he asked skeptically, but it at least meant Iruka was listening to him.  
It gave Kakashi hope, so he explained, "Filing paperwork, taking notes; keeping track of my meetings and scheduling my appointments." He added as an afterthought, "I need help overseeing the reconstruction of the village. You could help me rebuild Konoha."  
Iruka looked absolutely helpless, torn in his decision. "I-I couldn't…I have desk duty, Kakashi-san, in the Missions Room and I work here, at the Academy. I wouldn't have time—"  
"We'll make the time," Kakashi encouraged, squeezing the arm in his grip, "and I'll pay you too, a lot more than what you earn at the Academy or desk duty. I imagine you need the money; otherwise, you wouldn't be an Academy teacher and working shifts."  
"Some people do things because they enjoy it, Kakashi-san," Iruka explained weakly.  
Kakashi couldn't believe someone would work so much for so little pay…chunin-level pay. "Your apartment's not a particularly nice one. You could earn enough to move into a nicer one."  
"Are you bribing me, Kakashi-san?"  
"Yes, Iruka-sensei; I'm bribing you," Kakashi admitted, not at all concerned with how illegal the act of bribing was within the Fire Country. He could tell that Iruka thought he was just making jokes, but he wasn't. This was too important to the jounin, who was beginning to feel suffocated by his lack of options. He didn't want to fail the village, he didn't want to fail his predecessors, and he didn't want to fail the memory of his father. Maybe, just this once, he could put away his pride for the wellbeing of the village. "I trust you to do everything right, Iruka-sensei. I need you." Kakashi softened his grip, but he couldn't let go just yet.  
He could see Iruka mulling it over in his mind and taking his plea into consideration. He didn't want to hear the word 'No', not because he couldn't accept it, but because he didn't know what he would do if Iruka refused him again. "Why didn't you just tell me this before?" Iruka rolled his eyes and sighed.  
"I didn't think…about it." Kakashi didn't think it would make a difference whether he validated Iruka's qualifications. Everyone believed Iruka was the best Shinobi worker, just as everyone agreed that Kakashi was the best Shinobi fighter, and Kakashi was not ignorant of this fact. "Does this mean you'll do it, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Do you mean will I help you?" A small, challenging grin graced Iruka's face. Kakashi leaned forward, his eye narrowed closely, but Iruka refused to back down. His face stayed inches from his own, to where he could feel the hot breath of Iruka's parted lips hit the cloth of his mask.  
Kakashi groaned. He couldn't believe he was submitting to an Academy teacher. "Iruka-sensei, will you help me…please, assist me in the responsibilities of the Rokudaime."  
"When you ask so politely, how can I possibly say no?"  
"I don't know," Kakashi said, eyeing the younger man wearily. Iruka's small grin turned into another gentle smile. He reached up and playfully nudged Kakashi's shoulder. Kakashi couldn't help but also smile, relieved more than anything else.  
"Then, I accept," he said, "and we'll work out the salary, later."  
"Of course," Kakashi smiled, but he was slowly dying inside, not knowing what he was getting himself into. Still, convincing Iruka had to count for something, and the chunin was no longer upset. It was remarkable, how many emotions the younger man went through. It was something short of astonishing and, if Kakashi was honest with himself, he enjoyed it, just a bit.  
"Kakashi-san," Iruka hissed, staring at his arm. "You're hurting me." Kakashi let go, as though burned from the touch. He reached over to rub down Iruka's arm, as though it were his own, but stopped when the chunin beat him to it.  
"Sorry," he breathed, mentally struggling with why he felt the need to tend to Iruka's arm when the man was capable of handling it himself.  
"You shouldn't apologize, Kakashi-san," Iruka smirked. "It's a sign of weakness." Kakashi's eye went wide, his gaze lingering on Iruka. The Academy teacher had turned his own words against him. Kakashi's defenses had dropped: he apologized to Iruka, and he meant it. The last time he remembered apologizing to anyone was to the teams he failed so long ago.  
Iruka gazed at him with laughter in his eyes. Kakashi couldn't stop himself from watching the other man as he amused himself at his expense. He had the broadest smile Kakashi had ever seen or cared to even notice.  
Just then a loud, all encompassing ring rippled through the classroom. The Academy bell rang and, not a second later, over a dozen children were bursting through the classroom door and bustling into the room. Kakashi looked to them, unfazed, but the sound of feet and boisterous laughter startled Iruka. He quickly moved away.  
"All right, everyone! Get to your seats. Any rough-housing, and I'll have you doing double homework tonight." There was a collective groan from the children, half of which were not yet in their seats. Kakashi ignored them, for the most part, more interested in how Iruka functioned as their teacher and speculating over the various forms of torture Iruka occasionally put the brats through.  
"Yes, Ani-chan?"  
A little girl with spiky brown hair shooting from the sides of her head lowered her raised hand. "Who is he?" she asked, pointing in Kakashi's direction. Thanks to one heathen child, twenty pairs of heathen child eyes were suddenly on him. Kakashi felt he was being dissected by a swarm of flesh eating crows. Iruka turned to look at him as well, with that familiar soft smile on his face.  
"Everyone," he announced loudly, "this is…an acquaintance of mine. His name is—"  
"Hey, I know who that guy is!" exclaimed a boy with bandages on both sides of his dirty face. He shot out of his seat. "That's the Rokudaime! I know it is!"  
"Are you sure, Tsuki-kun?" Ani asked, yelling from across the classroom.  
"Of course I am, you dweeb…remember?" He addressed everyone, "He was the guy who blew up, at the Hokage ceremony!"  
The class turned from gawking at Tsuki to gawking at Kakashi once again. He had to wonder how his day had gone from bad to worse, to end up the subject of a pre-genin class. He should have jumped out of the window when he had the chance, and now it was too late. The little twerps cooed and sighed in awe and fascination. He could sense their predatory gleam, and expected each and every one of them to jump from their seats and charge him at any moment.  
"Now, now class. I want you all to remain in your seats; and yes, I just read your mind again." The class gave another collective groan. Kakashi found himself slowly moving closer and closer to Iruka, just in case the kids chose to defy his orders. "Yes, this is Kakashi-sama: our new Hokage. Please, greet him with respect."  
"Good afternoon, Hokage-sama," said the entire class.  
Kakashi put on a brave face, now that he was standing beside Iruka. "Yo," he waved. The class burst into giggles and laughs, as each pudgy, crusty face smiled stupidly…all but one. Kakashi widened his eye a bit more, staring back at the wimpy looking boy sitting dead center of the entire class. Not only was he not smiling, but a mean scowl managed to twist and contort every inch of his face. Familiar hazel eyes glared at him, housed beneath a mane of wild silver hair. It was that boy, the very same boy Iruka comforted during Tsunade's funeral. Like the day before, Kakashi was taken aback by the unexplainable hatred in the boy's eyes.  
"Yes, Ani-chan?" Iruka took another question from the girl.  
"Iruka-sensei, can we ask the Hokage-sama questions?" Immediately, ten more hands shot into the air.  
"No, no…we have much to do this afternoon." Iruka turned slightly, giving him a knowing grin. Kakashi mouthed his thanks. "Luckily, everyone, Kakashi-sama has offered to return here tomorrow to give the class an in-class demonstration on chakra control."  
"AWESOME!" some boy yelled, followed by the words amazing, neat, unbelievable, and yosh.  
The class cheered, Iruka smiled happily, and Kakashi's face sunk into itself with great depression. He looked towards Iruka who, grinning like the backstabbing bastard he was, gave Kakashi a thumb's up. Retaliation was one thing, but the mere thought of having to spend an entire eight hour day demonstrating for little kids who would only go home, imitate him, and fall from the ceilings, was nearly maddening. The Academy teacher clapped his hands together, while Kakashi wished for the man's very gruesome end.  
"So, tomorrow, you'll be able to ask Kakashi-sama anything you'd like to know what it takes to be a ninja. Anymore questions before we begin the lesson?"  
"Yeah, I have a question," said the glaring boy before Iruka even got a chance to call on him. His eyes turned to Iruka, but he shot a finger out towards Kakashi. "What the hell is he still doing here, anyway?"  
The class gasped and went silent, and Kakashi could have sworn he heard a pencil drop from someone's desk. The children sitting at lower platforms turned to look upwards, and the children sitting on higher platforms simply looked down to stare at the silver haired boy with the permanent scowl on his face.  
"Take!" Iruka hissed, his temple pulsing with anger. He was absolutely appalled that one of his students would accost the Hokage even if, deep down, he knew Kakashi deserved all kinds of verbal backlash. "You show the Rokudaime some respect!"  
"Sorry, Iruka-sensei," he grumbled, his voice trailing off. The boy named Take went back to silently staring at Kakashi, as if he'd somehow wronged him, in some way. It effectively disturbed the Hokage, but he managed to ignore it with lazy-eyed stares.  
"Everyone, take out the assignments you were working on before the break and, when you're finished, we'll move on to reading up on tomorrow's lesson." Iruka's class went to work, and their teacher returned to his desk. Kakashi followed behind him, noting how the chunin actually took a seat this time. He pulled out a red pen, before looking back up towards the jounin. "Is there something you wanted, Kakashi-san?" he asked quietly.  
"An explanation would be nice," Kakashi suggested.  
Iruka clasped his hands together. "Consider this part of your payment, to me, for agreeing to be your assistant," he offered, before adding, "The students are absolutely thrilled by the idea—they might actually remember the lesson, this time. And you can consider this a public appearance, since you're the Hokage now," Iruka shrugged.  
"This just might be my last public appearance," Kakashi grimaced, "if you get what I mean."  
Iruka shook his head, amused by Kakashi's morbid sense of humor. He looked towards the man again and felt a shudder of sympathy when Kakashi looked so pitiful. His mane of silver hair even managed to droop. "Think of it as practice, Kakashi-san," he said softly, returning to his work.  
Kakashi sulked, his eye fixed on Take: the boy still glaring at him rather than studying like the rest of his class. "This seems more like retribution, to me," he frowned.  
Chapter Five  
"You volunteered to demonstrate chakra control for Iruka-sensei's class?" Pakkun asked.  
Kakashi shook his head, and adamantly so. "Iruka-sensei pulled out a kunai and held it to my throat. I had no other choice but to obey his wishes," he drawled indolently.  
"Don't be ridiculous," Iruka scoffed, appearing from the hallway. Pakkun and Kakashi spotted the chunin, their eyes following him as he picked up two crates filled to the hilt with paperwork. "I did no such thing, Pakkun. You shouldn't listen to anything Kakashi-san says. He's deranged," he sighed happily, carrying the crates to his desk. After plopping one on the floor, he put one crate on the table top, heaving a great sigh.  
"Calling the Hokage deranged is treason, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka turned with a scroll in his hand. He looked down towards the jounin sitting lazily on the floor of his living room, resting his knee against his coffee table. "That's not treason. How do you shamelessly make things up like that?"  
"Trust me, young pup. It's his god given talent," Pakkun groused, his head hanging from over the couch. "Shall I provide an example for him, Kakashi?"  
Kakashi's eye drooped. "You're supposed to be on my side."  
"I side with whoever keeps me from starving to death," the pug huffed, glaring at the back of his master's head. "Besides, Iruka-sensei probably understands the laws of Konoha a lot better than you do. He is a teacher, after all; he has to keep this sort of knowledge in mind, so he can pass it on to his students."  
"Thank you, Pakkun," Iruka smiled, "and thank you again for putting everything together. It looks as though Lady Tsunade left her office in a messier state than I remember," he muttered, looking between the two crates in confusion. Together, they made not even half of all the paperwork still piled up in the Hokage offices. He stopped by there, before his desk duty shift, and found Kakashi's dogs waiting for him with everything together in neat little boxes.  
"I just wish Kakashi hadn't jumbled everything up for you."  
"What—"  
"I'm sorry about that. At least he has you, now, so he'll never touch another piece of paper again." Pakkun beamed.  
"Wait a minute," Kakashi turned his head, frowning angrily. "What exactly did you tell him?" he whispered.  
"We told him the truth," Pakkun hummed, louder than all get out. "We told him that you, unfamiliar with Tsunade-sama's methods, simply put everything together regardless of what paperwork was more important."  
"Really, Kakashi-san; you shouldn't have done that," Iruka murmured, his fingers flipping through papers like a deck of cards. "If you're not sure how to go about filing everything away, you should not have touched anything at all. If you're going to hire an assistant, then let them do their job. Now, I have to go through everything and fix your mistake." The chunin sighed tiredly.  
Kakashi rubbed his forehead, agitated by the slander being done to his good name. "Maa…I resent this," he whined. "I'm being unjustly accused by a creature that spends half his day chasing his own tail." Kakashi gave the pug another threatening stare, but Pakkun remained confidently smug.  
"Don't blame Pakkun, Kakashi-san," Iruka warned, taking a seat at his desk. "I've heard things from Naruto and Sakura. Let's face it: you ruined your credibility some time ago." He went to work, setting aside the scroll in his hand to focus on the few papers pulled from the crate. Iruka wanted to measure the level of Kakashi's unintentional tampering.  
"Ne? And how is that, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi asked lazily, leaning back against the same cushion Pakkun had been resting on all morning. Iruka glanced over his shoulder, addressing the jounin with little more than a disapproving frown.  
"You were chronically late when Team 7 met for training and missions. You had them perform mindless tasks that usually ended in the destruction of private and public property. Naruto always complained about how you lazed about on some tree, reading those filthy Icha Icha novels, while they practiced—and by the way…" Iruka swiveled around, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Don't even think about stepping into my classroom again with one of those filthy books on your person."  
Kakashi shrugged, his hands flying into the air. "I guess I won't be attending your class today, Iruka-sensei. I couldn't possibly part with my beloved Icha Icha."  
"You can and you will," Iruka supplied sharply, returning to the papers on his desk. "I don't believe this," he muttered, "this page and that page go together, but where's the rest of the document?" He scratched his cheek, puzzled. Kakashi gazed on thoughtfully, as Iruka's shoulders hunched forward. It was a reaction the chunin did subconsciously, whenever the task at hand became particularly trying; usually, while attempting to decipher some hastily scribbled homework…or mission report.  
Every so often, Iruka sighed, scoffed, or made some other sound that expressed his annoyance, while making separate piles for specific papers. Kakashi might have sympathized with the younger Shinobi, if not so irritated by how easily his ninken had led the man astray. They actually told Iruka that he caused that tornado of a mess? So being less than meticulous when it came to punctuality, strictness, or any form of encouragement somehow tainted his credibility? He was only human…or, at least, trying to be. Who did he look like, Maito Gai?  
Kakashi fought a shudder.  
"Honestly, Kakashi-san…I think that if it hadn't been for Pakkun, and the rest of your dogs, I might have changed my mind about being your personal assistant. They told me they spent all day in those offices, cleaning up your mess. Poor boys…"  
Kakashi reached back, gripping the first paw he could find, and crushed it within a balled-up fist. Pakkun gave a pained howl, jumping from the couch when Kakashi let go. Iruka swiveled again, at the sound, with fear and worry etched into his brow.  
"What happened?" he panicked, looking to where Kakashi sat. Though the jounin looked more relaxed than ever before, he noticed the small pug once resting on his couch was now circling beneath his coffee table, limping on his floor. He put two and two together and looked to Kakashi with livid disbelief. "Kakashi!"  
"That's Kakashi-san, to you," the jounin grumbled, pushing his spine against the couch.  
"Really? Was that necessary?" Pakkun growled, whimpering whenever he tried to walk on his left paw. He trudged away from the lethal Shinobi sitting on the floor, his head hanging low. "Resorting to violence, are we? What a child."  
"I have every right to punish my ninken, when they start acting up," Kakashi explained coldly, which did little to wipe the anger and disapproval from Iruka's face. Iruka looked down and found Pakkun staring up at him, with pain brimming in his eyes. The chunin cooed with sympathy, to which Kakashi couldn't help but roll his eyes. "He's faking, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka shot him a glare. "Don't even…" He scooted his seat back, allowing the small dog to leap onto his lap. The Copy nin didn't think he could get anymore annoyed. Pakkun sat himself on Iruka's legs, facing Kakashi. "I don't mean to baby you, Pakkun," the chunin stated, rubbing between the pug's ears, then gently down the rest of his body, "but are you alright?"  
"I'll be okay, I guess," he pouted. Kakashi felt physically ill by such a sappy sight, as Pakkun practically pushed into the palm of Iruka's hand. It was maddening. The jounin didn't harm his dogs, not to the point where they couldn't walk— nothing but the playful rough-housing they were used to. He knew how to reserve his strength, so it wasn't a matter of hurting Pakkun without realizing it. No…he knew Pakkun was faking; especially now, as the dog sneakily smirked at him. Iruka had gone back to separating papers with one hand, while the other hand mindlessly caressed his ninken. "He's a slave driver, Iruka-sensei," Pakkun said dryly, oozing with self-satisfaction.  
"You shouldn't be so hard on your dogs, Kakashi. They do so much for you. Don't force them to clean up your messes, either."  
"They are ninken," Kakashi stated harshly. "They are trained to deal with more important things than some messy room. In fact, it's an insult that I was forced to assign them such a trivial task."  
"I wouldn't consider it trivial, if it's something not even you would do, Kakashi-san."  
"I'm the Hokage. I shouldn't have to," Kakashi barked back in his usual, careless monotone.  
Pakkun looked to Iruka, awaiting his response.  
"Then you shouldn't make the mess," Iruka replied, acidly. Pakkun quickly abandoned his comfortable position, in order to follow Kakashi and Iruka's back and forth squabble. "As for your dogs—"  
"They're ninken," Kakashi corrected. Pakkun looked from Kakashi and back towards Iruka.  
"They're not some robotic breed of canine, Kakashi-san. They get tired and wounded and, sometimes, they need as much rest as the Shinobi they work for."  
Pakkun looked to Kakashi. "They've rested quite enough. When ninken are trained to perform one skill they should be out there on the field, performing that one skill."  
Pakkun looked to Iruka but nearly fell off the chunin's lap when the man swiveled in his seat again. "What skill would that be, Kakashi-san, killing?" Pakkun's gaze switched between the jounin and chunin, unable to resist comparing the exasperation in their glares. Kakashi appeared more determined to get his point across, while Iruka looked more worried that his point didn't seem to be getting across, at all.  
"No. Fighting, Iruka-sensei. They were born to fight. They were raised to fight. They were trained to fight, so you can't expect them to just willingly give that up."  
"Uh…I don't mind," Pakkun said feebly, but he went unheard.  
"They sacrificed everything for this village. They should be allowed to do whatever they want." Pakkun was beginning to think the two men weren't really talking about ninken anymore, but that fact became less of a concern when the gentle hand petting him, ever so gently, grasped his body with a bone crushing grip. Pakkun heaved for much needed oxygen.  
"You don't have to tell me about sacrifices, Kakashi-san. You're not the only ninja out there who's sacrificed their fair share for the good of the village."  
"I can't breathe—!"  
"Yeah, well…some sacrifice more than others."  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"It means that some sacrifice more than others. Must I repeat myself again, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Please—!"  
"Must you be so bad-mannered?"  
"I'm simply stating facts," the jounin groaned angrily. "That's why we have a system of ranks within Shinobi villages: genin, chunin, and jounin. Last time I checked, I didn't see some low-level chunin nearly lose his neck on some A-rank mission."  
"Ooh!" Iruka huffed. "I'll have you know, I've completed plenty of A-rank missions, and I don't need to boast about how dangerous they were just to impress other people."  
"I don't go around boasting about how dangerous my missions are," Kakashi shot back, "and since when have you ever completed an A-rank mission, anyway? I never took you for a liar, Iruka-sensei."  
"I am not lying!" Iruka exclaimed, absolutely flustered. "I've completed twelve A-rank missions, and that's more than proficient for a low-level chunin like me."  
"…Twelve?"  
"Twelve!"  
Kakashi scoffed, lazily looking away. "Please…that's nothing compared to my count."  
"298," Iruka said sharply. Kakashi stared at him, alarmed. "You've completed 298 A-rank missions," the chunin stated more calmly.  
"How do you know that?" Kakashi asked, suspicious, but his voice had fallen to a more civil tone.  
"I know that because I've seen your records in the Data book. I'm sure a skilled jounin like you wouldn't care to read up on other Shinobi," Iruka scowled, "but I like knowing if the jounin assigned to my former students is a capable Shinobi. It's a shame they don't also put down whether a Shinobi is a half-crazed genius with a death wish."  
"IRUKA! YOU'RE KILLING ME!"  
"Oh!" The chunin quickly let go of the ninken in his grip, and Pakkun all but heaved over the man's thigh. His tongue curled out, lapping up the fresh taste of breathable air. "Sorry about that, Pakkun," he dared Kakashi to challenge his apology, to which the jounin threw his hands up defensively. "I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?"  
"N-no…not a-at all," Pakkun coughed. When Iruka's gentle hand soothed out the fur on his back and rubbed down each side of his belly, all was forgiven. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me."  
Earth pounding knocks drummed their way through the wall of Iruka's apartment. "Keep it down over there! It's too early in the morning—some people are actually trying to sleep!" An obnoxious voice, muffled by layers of wall, accompanied the pounding. Kakashi looked to Iruka, interested in the chunin's reaction. He honestly didn't think Iruka could get any redder, but the other man was absolutely bathed in embarrassment. Iruka whispered a small apology, before returning to his task. He could never deliberately yell at another apartment.  
"…I could go over there and kill him."  
"Please, Kakashi-san…Don't kill my neighbor." With his head resting in his hand, Iruka went back to his paperwork, Kakashi went back to watching Iruka, and Pakkun pawed at every odd bit of paper dangling from the edge of Iruka's desk. The argument, however, fell flat, completely forgotten.  
Kakashi groaned softly, leaning his head back in a long stretch. He felt his Adam's apple bob against the fabric of his mask and not much else. It was warm here, as it always was, even as the morning dew cooled the air. He looked to his right, at the Hokage robes thrown over the armrest he used to hang his vest. He looked in front of him and just off to the side, where his eye-patch lay strewn against the coffee table-top. He found himself taking off the accessory, whenever he could, to give his eye a breather. He was thankful to have already gone "Hiate-ate Free" in front of Iruka. Otherwise, he'd never get a chance to take it off...  
Now looking towards his left, watching the chunin once more, he couldn't help but recall the evening when Iruka practically forced him to remove his headband. He was returning to the village from a rather gruesome mission that had gone south fast. Whether he actually completed the objective of that particular assignment remains something of a mystery to the Copy nin, who could barely see the village gates he stumbled upon. It was an important mission, nonetheless, one that dealt with the rebel Mist nins still out there, loyal to the ideology of Uchiha Madara. Without real thought or hesitation, Kakashi used what was left of his strength to jutsu into the center of Iruka's living room, covered with blood. He struggled, briefly, as a shapeless figure moved about trying to tend to his injuries. He recalled Iruka leaning over him and, even then, he argued with the younger man about how to take care of him. Iruka reassured him that he wouldn't take off his mask, only requesting that Kakashi allow him to remove his headband. The rest of that evening was still a blur to the jounin.  
True, Kakashi had gone headband-free, dozens of times, in front of his teams, enemies, medic nins, Hokages, and his ninken. Yet he panicked when a worry-weighted Iruka demanded that he let him take it away, only to reveal a Mangekyou Sharingan battling through its last energetic spins. Kakashi felt vulnerable, exposed, and expected a more repulsive response from the chunin. But it never came.  
Iruka laughed lightly, catching the Rokudaime's attention. He searched for the source of Iruka's amusement, finding Pakkun playing some sort of hand game with the few sheets of paper dangling from the younger man's desk. Instead of being annoyed by the constant interruption of paws scratching obsessively on page after page, Iruka only seemed to enjoy the inconsistent presence. Kakashi found it hard to keep a straight face, watching his ninken play a game similar to the ones he used to play with him when he was a kid. Pakkun, with all his skill and prestige, was resorting to child's play. He never acted like this with anyone, not even Naruto.  
"Could you not stare at us, Kakashi-san?" Iruka asked bluntly. "It's a bit off-putting."  
The jounin shrugged. "I'm simply trying to understand how a chunin, unwilling to disrespect their Hokage one day, can now talk down to him like he's some common villager," Kakashi droned softly.  
That playful smile on Iruka's face fell, but he and Pakkun continued to scrape at the same pieces of paper. "You are anything but common, Kakashi-san," Iruka blushed, "and, to answer your question, I tried to incorporate your new title into how I addressed you, but that you cared very little for my efforts was insufferably clear." He continued sarcastically, "I'll never make that mistake again, Kakashi-san. You can be certain of that."  
Kakashi smirked.  
"So, when's Kakashi doing the demonstration?" Pakkun asked.  
"Well…" Iruka looked at the clock on his desk. "Classes start at eight, and it's now twenty minutes passed seven. May I?" Iruka asked politely, with his hands outstretched. Pakkun padded forward, licking at Iruka's fingertips. The chunin laughed.  
"Certainly, young pup."  
Iruka reached under Pakkun's front legs and picked him up, depositing the ninken pug over his shoulder. The small dog pawed his way further down Iruka's chest, causing the man to laugh again. Kakashi took in the sight of the two being so amicable, no longer as annoyed as he once was. Amusement could be the only word to describe how he felt, while Pakkun whispered things to the side of Iruka's face, causing the chunin to laugh even more but always in the same, soft manner.  
"Maa, you better not be talking about me," he mused, frowning jokingly. Both Iruka and Pakkun turned to him, smiling innocently.  
"Of course not, Kakashi-san," Iruka gave a mischievous grin. "We were musing over how well you'd fair today, up against a class of twenty pre-genin. Maybe you'll see how difficult my job really is."  
"Shouldn't be that difficult," Kakashi sighed, shrugging. "They're only pre-genin, after all. I imagine that's twenty pre-genin of the Rookie 9 variation," he rationalized.  
"You'll see," Iruka smirked. Kakashi leaned back again, unfazed. He let his one open eye dance over the ceiling, knowing he had nothing to fear except, perhaps, a lot of questions unrelated to being a Shinobi. They might ask him about his eye-patch or his mask, because bratty kids were always curious about things they couldn't see. In all likelihood, Iruka's class wouldn't even remember the demonstration. "Kakashi-san, the demonstration should only take up half the class time. Would you like to come in after lunch, or would you prefer to come in this morning, with me."  
Iruka stood, pushing his seat beneath his desk. It was a wooden chair, one Kakashi imagined once belong to a full dining set. It was dark oak and expensive looking, but old enough for the wear and tear to have stripped away any of its value. Iruka's apartment just didn't have space for a dining room table or any unnecessary number of chairs. Most likely it was a family hand-me-down, like most of Iruka's furniture seemed to be.  
"Kakashi-san?" Kakashi veered his head, giving Iruka a sideway glance. "Are you coming with me, this morning?" he asked again, assuming the jounin had not heard him the first time. The chunin was less sure of himself, his hands clasped in front of him and his eyes tainted with worry. He couldn't imagine what worried the younger man now but, knowing Iruka, it could be anything.  
"Maa…I'd rather get it over with now than wait until later," he sighed, reaching for his eye-patch. "I'm sure something else will crop up later today, and take up even more of my time."  
"That reminds me," Iruka turned around, reaching for that unidentified scroll. He untied it and pulled it down, unraveling a myriad of writing separated with check points. "I meant to tell you about this before," Iruka mentioned, pulling it down and holding it up, "but I just set it aside. You must excuse me. I haven't had a rest yet."  
"Iruka-sensei, if you're going to be any good to me, you can't be so forgetful," Kakashi said.  
Pakkun wagged his tail eagerly, running his droopy eyes down the scroll in Iruka's hands.  
"Well, for your information. Had you been more thorough in your office takeover, you would have noticed that this scroll was left for you to read upon your arrival. It's a prewritten schedule for all your appointments this week," Iruka replied, turning. The chunin yelped and leapt back, tightly shutting his eyes and clutching the center of his chest. "Do not sneak up on me like that," he breathed to the intolerable jounin hovering over him.  
Pakkun gave the chunin a long, troubled stare.  
Kakashi smiled. "I'm a ninja, Iruka. You must expect nothing less of me." Iruka eyed him wearily. "What's it say?"  
Iruka reached down again, clutching the bottom of the scroll. "It says you have a meeting with the Head of the Interrogation Taskforce tomorrow, at ten."  
"Morino-san," Kakashi nodded slowly. "Oh good; someone I like."  
"Of course; it makes sense that you would like Morino-san. He's just unconventional as you are." Kakashi chuckled softly, but the brown haired man glanced up and gave the Rokudaime a stern stare. "You'll show up to this meeting on time, yes? In fact, you'll be more than on time. As the Hokage, you should be the first person there." Iruka rolled up the scroll, clasping it once more.  
Kakashi frowned. "You didn't read the rest," he sulked, pointing out the obvious.  
"I'm your personal assistant now, Kakashi-san," Iruka explained. "I'll read the rest myself, but I want your word that you'll show up to that meeting tomorrow and show up on time."  
"Maa…" Kakashi thought briefly before he answered, "No promises."  
"Kakashi-san…" Iruka gave him that glistening, brown-eyed stare, the one riddled with grief and disappointment. It was the same look the younger man gave Naruto whenever the blonde acted less than satisfactory or to the high moral standards of Umino Iruka.  
Kakashi swallowed hard, staring down at the chunin with every intention of saying what Iruka wanted to hear. Why, he wasn't sure. Iruka was forgiving enough to have not kicked Kakashi out yet, even when he'd given the Academy teacher more than enough reason to. But Kakashi refused to make another promise he knew he couldn't keep, not since all the promises he ever made and never kept…even if only to Iruka and over something so trivial as punctuality.  
"I'll try my best to be there on time," he said, and he meant it.  
Both Iruka and Pakkun stared suspiciously at the Copy nin, but Iruka caved in a lot faster than Pakkun expected him to. "I guess that's all I could hope for," Iruka grumbled, brushing past Kakashi with Pakkun still hanging over his shoulder. "We should head out now. If the students get there before we do, well…" Iruka shook his head. "I'd rather not say. The stark, foreboding images are engraved in my memories."  
"Surely they aren't that bad," Pakkun encouraged.  
Iruka eyed the small dog with bemusement. "They can be very well-behaved, under the right supervision, but when left to their own devices, well… you remember a younger Naruto left to his own devices?" he quirked a brow, causing the ninken to chuckle.  
"I have to agree with you there, Iruka-sensei," he said, remembering the countless plots an unsupervised Naruto devised just to get a glimpse beneath his master's mask. None of them were any good, really. "In that case, I remember a younger Kakashi left to his own devices."  
"Really?" Iruka laughed, reaching for the Shinobi vest lying on the kitchen counter. Pakkun jumped down, so the chunin could put it on.  
"Good luck today, Iruka-sensei. Even with Kakashi around, I'm sure things will go over smoothly."  
"You can come along, if you'd like, Pakkun," Iruka offered, zipping up his vest.  
"Mm, I guess I could," Pakkun thought aloud, scratching his chin with the back of his paw. He looked to Iruka again, grinning. "Okay, Iruka-sensei. This could be fun."  
"I'm glad you feel that way." The chunin smiled. "You think the others would like to come too? We could make it part of the lesson, since none of my students have ever encountered a canine summoning before."  
Pakkun shook his head in protest. "Maybe some other time, Iruka-sensei," he said. "My brothers aren't used to using their paws to clean walls. They wore themselves out yesterday," he explained, "which is why you haven't heard a peep out of them all night."  
Iruka frowned, with his hands on his hips. "They have been awfully quiet tonight." He turned to look down the hallway leading to his bedroom, where seven spirit-broken dogs lay sprawled out over his bed. "They really outdid themselves this time, didn't they?" Iruka frown. He turned to Pakkun. "Are you sure you wouldn't want to join them?" he asked, worried that Pakkun might not be getting any sleep.  
Pakkun felt all warm and fuzzy inside, when Iruka-sensei worried over him like that. "I took a nap on your couch."  
"Are you sure?" Iruka reached up, pulling the hair band from around his hair. He retied it to where those few loose strands framing his face were tucked back into place. Then Iruka reached across the counter to retrieve his hiate-ate. "I didn't see you get a good night's sleep."  
"I could same the same about you, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka blushed, pulling tightly on the knotted cloth. Kakashi tried his hardest, but he couldn't drown out their mindless prattling. He managed to go unnoticed long enough to slip back into his robes. While being nothing but skin and muscle, the garment weighed him down, like two heavy hands pushing on his shoulders. He shrugged into the garment, watching as Iruka took his hair down only to pull it back into pony-tail, with his headband strapped neatly against his forehead.  
"I'll catch up with you two, later," Pakkun said. "Someone has to tell them where ya went. Without me, they aren't smart enough to put two and two together," the pug joke.  
"Spoiled creatures," Kakashi grumbled, stepping nearer. "Tell them they don't know the meaning of worn out just yet."  
"Don't be an ass," Pakkun growled at the jounin.  
"Don't listen to him, Pakkun," Iruka leaned forward, briefly rubbing behind Pakkun's ears. "Remember what I said earlier?"  
"Of course," Pakkun replied sinisterly, glaring at Kakashi. "He's deranged." With that final declaration, hanging in the air like an indisputable truth, Pakkun scampered off towards Iruka's bedroom. In his departure, he left a rather amused chunin and a more than irritated master.  
"I could kill him," Kakashi threatened.  
Iruka turned on him. "You better not put another finger on him, Kakashi-san."  
"Telling your Hokage what to do, Iruka-sensei?" Iruka blushed and backed away, which was the reaction Kakashi expected from the younger man. "As for those worthless animals I call ninken, I meant what I said before." He casted a steely gaze on Iruka. "I can discipline them however I want."  
"Certainly, Kakashi-san," Iruka relented, but the scowl on his lips and the defiance in his eyes said something entirely different. "Shall we go now?"  
"I don't see why not," Kakashi smiled, turning to leave.  
"…Hold on a second!" Iruka grabbed Kakashi's sleeve before he could take two steps away. Unprepared and unusually off-guard, Kakashi stood skillfully still while a suddenly crazed chunin shoved his arms into his robes. He felt an uncommon heat suddenly graze over his cheeks and was thankful, for the umpteenth time, that he wore a mask over his face. Kakashi felt eager fingers ghost over his lower back, prodding his covered flesh, running up and down his skin, and reaching so far out that it felt like Iruka was trying to wrap his arms around him. Kakashi slowly gazed downward, shock having enveloped every fiber of his being, but the chunin in question was consumed by his efforts, until a tan cheek pressed up against Kakashi's chest. Iruka tugged at a hidden pocket sewn into the interior of Kakashi's robes. "I knew it," Iruka hissed, pulling away. Kakashi saw a flash of green paperback cover fly into the air and into Iruka's hand. Kakashi reached out for it, pitifully, but his eye had already drooped in defeat.  
"Shit," he cursed, moping over the lost Icha Icha novel.  
"Seems to be your new hiding place," Iruka voiced with haughty satisfaction. "I saw it yesterday, when you were hanging from my classroom window."  
"Maa…give that back," Kakashi whined, but he wished he hadn't. The fire in Iruka's eyes had him backing down, before the flames could engulf him.  
"What did I say about this," Iruka asked calmly, holding the book between two fingers.  
Kakashi reached for the back of his head, bracing himself. "Eh, you said I could do without it?"  
"Good, Kakashi-san. You're exactly right." Eyes closed and temple pulsing, Iruka tossed the book over his shoulder. Then a pathetic thud, supported by a flutter of pages, signaled an Icha Icha book falling somewhere in the general vicinity of the room. "Let's go," the corner of Iruka's mouth twitched. Kakashi thought he might actually cry.

"Good morning, Iruka-sensei," greeted his class.  
"Well, what a surprise!" Iruka beamed, his hands planted securely on his hips. "All twenty of you are in your seats, with your hands in sight, and you said good morning. It's unreal… In fact, it's absolutely unbelievable," He scowled, crossing his arms. The students' broad, phony smiles began flickering like broken lights, and the jounin leaning cross-legged against Iruka's desk mentally chuckled at the fakers sitting before him. Kakashi had to applaud the man, though, for not being as gullible as he thought Iruka would be.  
"I guess I can't blame you for wanting to leave a good impression on the Rokudaime. After all, I did threaten to punish anyone who so much as yawned in a disrespectful way," Iruka reflected, tapping a finger on the tip of his chin. "But make no mistake: like all Hokages, the Rokudaime is a genius Shinobi. He can see right through your façades. Just act normal and be sure to participate in today's lesson."  
Not a minute into class, and Iruka already had them squirming in their seats. They were absolutely scared out of their mind, which was endlessly amusing to Kakashi.  
"Good morning students," Iruka greeted in return. "While you're still in a "good behavior" mood, don't you think you have something to say to Kakashi-sama?" He asked, ever so nicely.  
Obediently, the class turned to address their Hokage. "Good morning, Hokage-sama."  
"Yo," he waved back, smiling. Even when Take scowled at him, with all the intensity of an enemy Shinobi, Kakashi continued to wave and smile.  
"I'm so proud of all of you," Iruka praised. "Your conduct has come a long way since our last guest."  
"Who was your last guest?" Kakashi asked.  
"I wanted the class to see a perfected hidden ninjutsu up-close, so I asked Shikamaru to come in and show his Shadow Imitation technique."  
"Sounds like a promising lesson," Kakashi shrugged. "What went wrong?"  
"Everything," Iruka answered flatly. "Nara-kun was chakra depleted by the end of it. Everyone wanted to be under the influence of his technique, so they all charged him at once." Iruka's class snickered. "But that doesn't seem to be the case today, does it class?" Iruka asked loudly, eyeing his students dangerously.  
"No, Iruka-sensei," the class whimpered, bulking in their seats.  
Iruka turned to Kakashi and smirked. "They're eager to show the new Hokage what they can do."  
"I can't wait to see what they can do," Kakashi muttered dryly.  
"Careful," Iruka quirked a brow and gave him "the warning" look. It consisted of a smile that wasn't a smile, but something severe and evil disguised as a smile. The warning look promised the endless verbal assault Kakashi had to look forward to, if he misbehaved. Iruka clapped his hands together. "Now, before we begin, let's review what we discussed yesterday afternoon. Yes, Ani-chan?"  
"Iruka-sensei, are we going to have a test?" she asked, to the chagrin of her peers. Kakashi didn't have to know this particular student long enough to guess she probably was the over-achiever, the Sakura of her class. She had an air of intellectual confidence that probably didn't translate well into combative situations either. The other kids, hissing and groaning for her to shut up, did nothing to quell her curiosity. "I mean, will there be a written test, or…"  
"No, Ani-chan," Iruka answered soft-heartedly. "I can see that you're worried about giving an in-class demonstration for today, but I'm sure you'll do fine." Ani blushed, embarrassed by her sensei's praise. Kakashi would have told her that the success of her entire Shinobi career depended on this one lesson, rather than stroke what was probably a well hidden ego.  
"To be a successful Shinobi," Iruka stated firmly, "both physical and mental capabilities need to be at the peak of excellence, which is why it is best to exercise them both. Today, each and every one of you will have the opportunity to put what you've learned into practice. Though chakra control is a fundamental skill, it is one of the most difficult, and can anyone tell me why?" A few hands shot into the air. Iruka picked one, arbitrarily. "Yes?"  
"Chakra control is a balance of both physical and spiritual energy?" answered a girl with deadpan eyes and pale blue hair tamed into two long braids.  
"Very good, Ayaka-chan, and who can explain why balancing these two energies is important?" Another collection of hands flung into the air.  
Kakashi sighed, already weary of these pre-genin. Iruka called on another student, walking back and forth before his class. The jounin could tell Iruka was a very hands-on instructor. Kakashi frowned, thinking back to the few months he spent training and learning here, before graduating, and found that he couldn't even remember his Academy teacher's name.  
"Yes?" Iruka called on another student.  
"Alright, check it out. It's like this…" Kakashi's head snapped up. He was immediately fascinated by the moronic speech pattern drifting into his ears. "So, you need to make sure this stuff is, you know, all balanced and stuff, or you won't have the energy—you won't have the focus. No, wait…! You won't have the amount in each one on the different parts, to do things like taijusti and genjutsu and…and stuff." The boy blushed, as the confidence he first started with began to ebb away.  
It was the boy from yesterday, who recognized Kakashi as the Hokage; the one sporting bandages on each cheek and spiky red hair as loud and obnoxious as his voice.  
"That was correct…to some extent," Iruka commented, uncertainly, but Kakashi could tell that Iruka was just as perplexed as he was. "Thank you, Tsuki-kun," he smiled, when Kakashi would have just told the boy he didn't speak stupid.  
Tsuki plopped over his desk, frustrated with his long-winded answer. Still, Iruka did everything he could to cushion his student's pride, even if his answer was barely comprehensible, recognizable, or understandable.  
"Not that Tsuki-kun isn't right, I think, but can anyone clarify what he said so that it fits a more contextual definition?" Everyone seemed eager to put Tsuki out of his misery, as each student reached towards the ceiling. Ani was particularly trying, as her hand danced and shook like mad. To the classes' collective disappointment, Iruka chose the most lackluster among them. "Yes, Take-kun?"  
The less than enthusiastic Take dropped his arm, looking to Iruka with something akin to admiration. Kakashi refused to believe a kid like that behaved like anything short of a demon, let alone respectful to Iruka. The jounin kept reminding himself that the silver haired brat slumped in his chair, with contempt permanently etched into his pointy face, was the same boy who cried on Iruka's shoulder just a few days ago. If Take hadn't given him that same intense look of hatred as the day of Tsunade's funeral, Kakashi would never have guessed it was the same kid.  
"Chakra is channeled through a circulatory-like system, chakra coils, and through an organ that redistributes this energy throughout the body. Chakra is a mixture of spiritual and physical energy that aids to using various types of jutsus: ninjutsu, dojutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu. A balanced chakra is necessary to master these skills simultaneously." Take finished with a subtle eye-roll; meanwhile, his peers pulled back in their respective seats, gaping at him with shock. Half of them looked surprised to see him there, while others whispered about him saying anything at all.  
Kakashi looked to Iruka to see what his response would be, but the chunin remained unaffected, other than the subtle grin gracing his soft features. "Take-kun, could you please clarify what you mean when you say simultaneously? For example, what are the implications behind using different jutsu that involves a balanced chakra?" the chunin asked, radiating with enthusiasm.  
Take looked to his left, to his right, and all around him, startled by the waiting stares of the other students. "Tch…" he sneered, trying to get as many people to stop staring at him as humanly possible. The other students didn't look away, not at all intimidated by the smallest, skinniest kid in the classroom. "W-well, Iruka-sensei, there are these chambers where a necessary percentage of chakra can be expelled to perform a specific jutsu."  
"What's the first chamber?" Kakashi asked, pushing off from Iruka's desk. He stepped forward, with his hands resting limply in his pant pockets. Iruka's warm brown eyes gave him another critical stare, while Take's wild hazel eyes fixated on him with anger.  
"The first chamber," Take continued, the class hanging on his every word, "is where stamina, the foundation of chakra energy, is stored. A well rested, well nourished ninja should have a stamina level at a hundred percent, in order to distribute this energy to the other chambers."  
"What are the other chambers?" Kakashi asked Take, surprisingly eager to hear what Iruka's student had to say.  
"Kakashi-san," Iruka whispered, "perhaps you should ask someone else in the class, so that everyone can get a chance to answer."  
"I only want to know his answer," Kakashi answered back, still watching the scowling boy. "Go on, and tell me what these other chambers are for."  
"Shouldn't you already know, Hokage-sama?" Take sneered, to the horrification of both Iruka and his fellow peers.  
"Of course I know," he shrugged, caring less about Take's disrespect or his unexplainable hatred. Kakashi was more intrigued by the intelligence behind the boy's accurate understanding of chakra control. "I'm Hokage, after all," he smiled, "But you're an Academy student who has the opportunity to show how much you've learned from Iruka-sensei. Does Iruka-sensei not teach you well?" Kakashi could feel Iruka's warning look again, burning into the side of his face.  
An infuriated Take took the bait, to Kakashi's satisfaction, and pushed forward with everything he knew. "The second chamber produces a percentage of chakra, and between the two chambers is where a mixture of energy is released to make the chakra. The other chambers have no particular order, since this is all a theoretical to help explain how and how much chakra is released to perform a certain skill. To perform taijutsu, you don't even need to produce a percentage of chakra. You only need stamina. A percentage of stamina is exerted, depending on the move, so you would still need to know how to control the amount of energy you release. In this sense, other jutsu like illusions or spells are a lot more complicated to release and control, because the user will need to build up chakra and control it through hand seal techniques.  
"Using techniques without proper chakra control can lead to an over exertion of chakra that cannot be used again once release. If you release 30% of stamina into chakra, you have 70% left at your disposal. Then let's say you use 10% of that 30 to perform a kage bunshin, then you have 20% of chakra left at your disposal to perform another technique. Without chakra control, a person can easily overuse the amount of chakra at their disposal, releasing the full 30% into their kage bunshin instead of the 10% you only need. Once that overused 20% is released it's lost forever, you'll never get it back, and Iruka-sensei is a great teacher," Take finished in a single breath.  
"Is that so?" Kakashi blinked, unprepared for that last part. He eyed Take with undying interest.  
"Iruka-sensei is a fantastic teacher and, without him, half the idiots in this class would never have a chance at becoming a Shinobi—"  
"Take!" Iruka gasped. "That's enough!" Take went silent, to Kakashi's disappointment. Leave it to Iruka to put an end to what was sure to be and entertaining response. The other students didn't appear fazed by Take's insult, because it either happened often or they were simply too shocked by his behavior to see past a pre-genin peer talking back to the Rokudaime. Iruka looked torn between graciousness, pride, and outrage, much to Kakashi's entertainment. "I'm grateful for the faith you have in my abilities as your sensei, Take-kun, but please refrain from insulting your fellow peers."  
"Sorry, Iruka-sensei," he mumbled, sinking further into his seat. Take crossed his arms, frowning at his desk.  
"Well…" Iruka blushed, uncertain with how to proceed. He turned on Kakashi, with something similar to a flustered glare on his brow. "Are you satisfied,Hokage-sama?"  
"Very much so, Iruka-sensei, thank you," Kakashi beamed a crinkled-eye smile. "Take-kun gave such a thorough telling to illustrate not only the function of chakra control, but how it is distributed and why it is so important to master this basic skill. Wouldn't you agree?"  
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Iruka muttered, trying to disguise his sour tone with a half-hearted smirk. "Take-kun was absolutely correct in his assessment. To a certain extent, Tsuki-kun also has a good understanding on what it means to control chakra, as does Ayaka-chan. Thank you, and I expect you three to do exceptionally well in today's lesson." Tsuki and Ayaka beamed with excitement, overjoyed by their sensei's recognition, while Take did little more than uncross his arms. "I hope those who still don't understand what it means to have chakra control will have a better understanding by the end of today's lesson. Kakashi-sama, are you ready to begin the demonstration?"  
"Whenever you are, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi smiled again.  
"Good." Iruka turned to his class. "I'll take a few more questions, and then the Rokudaime is going to take over." Almost every hand went flying, more eager than ever before. "Yes, Tsuki-kun?"  
"Iruka-sensei, how do you know the Hokage?"  
"That's highly irrelevant to the lesson," Iruka blushed fervently.  
"But you know the Hokage, Iruka-sensei! That's amazing," Tsuki exclaimed, "and my dad told me that he's that Copy nin guy, the one who helped defeat our enemies in the last war. How do you get to know someone so cool?" Kakashi shifted awkwardly, suddenly the focus Tsuki's praise again.  
"The Hokage-sama is that Copy nin guy?" asked some nameless kid.  
"He is! That's why he's got an eye-patch—he has the Sharingan!"  
"How does Iruka-sensei know him?"  
"Maybe they went to the Academy together."  
"Everyone please, let's get back to the lesson at—"  
"I can't believe our Hokage is the legendary Copy nin!"  
"I knew his name sounded familiar. My mom says he's the reason our village survived the attack of Uchiha Madara. She also says he's the son of the White Fang."  
"The White Fang!"  
"Surely you're not spending valuable class time talking about me, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi mused, while the class rippled with boisterous babble. Iruka fidgeted, helpless, as his class carried away with the many tales and stories they ever heard about Kakashi or his late father.  
"The Hatake name is listed in their textbook under Legendary Shinobi. That can't be helped," Iruka sulked, thoroughly upset. "I knew they'd get distracted by your status." The chunin turned on his class. Kakashi expected Iruka to crash down on his students with his infamous temper, but that moment never came. He heard his name, Kakashi, brought up time and time again, followed with oblivious chatter. The class was in an uproar, and Iruka no longer seemed to pose the same threat as before.  
The jounin felt a sudden, unexplainable drain in Iruka's energy and his eye went wide. He could feel Iruka battling to conceal his chakra level without reason. Kakashi frowned, his concentration torn between countering Iruka's efforts to conceal his chakra and the loud, obnoxious chatter of twenty different children.  
"HEY!" Kakashi barked, watching Iruka's students.  
Young faces fell as the leader of their village drowned them in a dark and dangerous ripple of energy. Many who were out of their seats slowly sat back at their desk, for fear that any sudden moment would earn them Hokage-sama's lethal stare. Pudgy cheeks drained of smiles and laughter and were replaced with fearful obedience, and what talk of Kakashi as the Great Copy nin quickly fell to thoughts of the 'Great and Terrifying Copy nin Rokudaime'.  
"Settle down," Kakashi growled, effectively putting the terror back into Iruka's students. "To answer your question, Tsuki-kun," the bandaged boy trembled in response, "a few of Iruka-sensei's former students made my genin team. That's how we know each other."  
"Thank you, Kakashi-san," Iruka sighed wearily. Kakashi frowned but accepted the gratitude. "Kakashi-sama is right. You all remember Naruto, yes?" Several eager nods were made, along with a few excited grins, but the fear of angering the Hokage again kept the kids response relatively tamed. "Well, Kakashi-sama was Naruto's jounin sensei."  
"No way!" Tsuki couldn't help himself, Iruka knew, having become Naruto's #1 Fan. "No wonder Naruto-kun's so cool!"  
The Academy teacher had to laugh. "Yes, Tsuki-kun…this is why Naruto's cool." He gave Kakashi a soft smile. Tsuki raised his hand again. "Yes, Tsuki-kun?"  
"When is Naruto-kun coming to visit again?"  
"I'm not sure…" Iruka trailed off, casting his eyes away from his hopeful students. "He'll show up at some point. He's been a bit tied up recently." Kakashi could feel Iruka's gaze on him, but he shrugged it off, not having much to say on that matter. He hated those looks Iruka gave him, the ones that demanded he deal with a subject he'd rather not talk about. Then they always disappeared, like now, so long as Kakashi ignored them.  
"Yes?" Iruka called on another student.  
"Why does Hokage-sama wear a mask?"  
Iruka crossed his arms and shook his head. "That's a very inappropriate question, Hisane-kun. Unless any of you have anymore questions, questions that are relevant to the lesson," Iruka add dryly, when almost every hand went into the air. Apparently, very few students had questions that dealt with the day's lesson. Iruka called on one of the remaining hands. "Yes, Ani-chan?"  
"You said yesterday that we could ask Hokage-sama about what it is to be a Shinobi," she mentioned, fidgeting with her fingers.  
"I'm sure the Hokage wouldn't mind answering that question," Iruka smiled. Kakashi quickly feigned disinterest in Ani and the rest of her peers, not at all eager to answer questions. "Care to take over, Kakashi-sama?"  
"Sure," Kakashi nodded. With any luck, he could get away with giving half-truths and vague responses, without the wrath of Iruka thundering down upon him. "What was the question again?" he asked Ani, slightly amused by her hesitation.  
"Um…H-Hokage-sama, what does it take to be a Shinobi?"  
"Good question," Kakashi said seriously, shrugging his shoulders. "A successful Shinobi is—" Kakashi was cut off by a few sharp knocks rattling the classroom door. It flew open to reveal a rather reserved looking woman with dark wavy hair, ruby lips, and dark oval glasses.  
"Iruka-sensei! Oh…" She stopped short, as two men, and a class of curious faces, stared back at her. Spotting Kakashi as the Hokage he was, she gave a short bow of respect. "Hokage-sama." Kakashi gave her a curt nod in return, unsettled with the dark crimson spreading across her cheeks, and the coy smile on her face.  
"Suzume-sensei…what's wrong?" Iruka asked with worry.  
"A few of the other instructors are having an emergency meeting," she answered, holding the door open. "We need you to facilitate the proceedings."  
"Oh," Iruka muttered. He looked to Kakashi and his class. "I have a class right now. Surely, the meeting can take place at some other time."  
"No, Iruka-sensei," Suzume-sensei shook her head pointedly, pushing the bridge of her glasses back. "This is the agreed time. I'm surprised no one told you, so I apologize for that. Hokage-sama," she bowed again, addressing a Kakashi still trying to feign disinterest. "You are our greatest Shinobi. You could easily take over and instruct Iruka-sensei's class." His eyes went wide, surprised by the suggestion. Kakashi stared back at Suzume-sensei, who looked at him with a strange gleam in her eyes.  
Iruka frowned, his gaze shifting between his class, his colleague, and his Hokage. "I guess that's true enough," he mumbled with unease. "Kakashi-sama…"  
"No." Kakashi already knew what Iruka would ask of him: to monitor twenty soul sucking brats while he went away for some teacher's meeting. He wouldn't stand for it. He was the Rokudaime, after all. True, Hokage's made Academy visits and gave class demonstrations all the time. He was hoping to be a new breed of Hokage, one that did away with all of that nonsense.  
Then Iruka came along and ruined it. Showing the class his greatness was one thing, but watching them like some sort of chunin substitute went too far.  
"No way, no how," he murmured into the chunin's ear, "and you can tell your colleague the same." He glanced back briefly, at the woman still hanging from Iruka's classroom door.  
Iruka sucked in a breath, annoyed but not surprised by Kakashi's reluctance. He went to retaliate but stopped before he could make a fool of himself.  
Were they alone in the Missions Room, his apartment, or at Ichiraku's with Naruto, the brown haired chunin wouldn't have thought twice about giving Kakashi verbal lashing and a heated lecture about taking on all duties of the Hokage. These duties included taking the time to visit the Academy, to share with a class your experiences as a Shinobi.  
But Kakashi and Iruka were not alone; not in the Missions Room, his apartment, or having another round of ramen at Ichiraku's with Naruto. In fact, in this room, they were no longer Kakashi and Iruka but Kakashi-sama and Iruka-sensei. Iruka was far inferior to Kakashi, in ability and rank; he had no right to demand or request anything from the older man. To do so would be disrespectful, and Iruka would forever be his students' embodiment of what a Shinobi should never be.  
"Forgive me, Kakashi-sama, for forgetting my place. I have no right to ask such a thing from you," Iruka bowed apologetically.  
Kakashi frowned, staring at Iruka, Iruka's students, and the teacher Iruka called Suzume-sensei. He tried to understand the public charade Iruka wanted to keep up with, but he thought he made it clear the other day. Iruka treating him differently, because of his title, made him angry: publically or privately. Why did a title have to change every aspect of his life? He wouldn't stand for it.  
"Maa..." he drawled and scratched his head, "don't make me feel guilty, Iruka-sensei, and don't bow."  
"Yes, Hokage-sama."  
"No," Kakashi huffed, rubbing down one side of his face with a gloved palm. "Don't agree with me, either."  
"My apologies, Kakashi-sama."  
"Stop doing that..." Kakashi hissed, having already forgotten about the students in their seats and the woman at the door. He turned on Iruka. "When you call me Kakashi-sama, it annoys me, when you say sorry and I don't deserve an apology, it annoys me, and when you bow—"  
"I'm merely showing you—"  
"You're merely being annoying—"  
"—the respect entitled to a Hokage, Kakashi-sama. Please, now is not the time to discuss something like this," Iruka hissed back, trying to keep the conversation between themselves. His students, fidgeting with curiosity and impatience, were staring down at their sensei and the Rokudaime and wondering what the two were talking about.  
Take sat back, fuming, while his peers whispered and speculated. He felt his time better spent drumming his fingers against the top of his desk than talking; watching as the Hokage of their village verbally accosted his beloved Iruka-sensei.  
Kakashi stared at Iruka, long and hard; his thin lipped frown, the dark, sunken hue beneath his brown eyes, the troubled turn of his brow, and his glazed over eyes. "I thought I told you before," he said, the softer tone of his voice surprising him.  
Iruka sighed and shook his head. The last thing he needed was an unusually immature jounin complaining about the pointlessness of village protocol. Those fruitless arguments were best left at home, where they belonged. "We're in a classroom, Kakashi-sama, not alone," Iruka urged desperately.  
Iruka did not have to remind him of this fact. Kakashi ignored the class and, instead, looked to the other Academy teacher standing by the open door. "Suzume-sensei, yes?  
"Yes, Kakashi-sama," Suzume smiled.  
"Do not assume I am more capable than Iruka-sensei in teaching children, simply because I'm the Hokage," he all but growled at the woman. He was glad to see her face flush with shame. "To be honest, I can't stand children and, if left with twenty of them for only a little while, I can assure you there may be none left," Kakashi finished, and he said it just loud enough for the entire class to hear.  
"Yes, of course," a flushed Suzume apologized, bowing over and over again. "Please, forgive me."  
Iruka grew weary with unnecessary confusion, which happened too often when with Naruto's jounin sensei. The chunin thought he'd be used to how the older man's mind worked, on a level of insanity, where things made sense to him and him only, but alas... "You do realize that Suzume-sensei just bowed and apologized...she called you Hokage-sensei," he noted, practically talking into Kakashi's shoulder.  
"That's different," Kakashi shrugged.  
"Suzume-sensei is not a that," Iruka scoffed. "She is a she, and I hardly see a difference."  
"She isn't you."  
"Perhaps we should reschedule the meeting, Iruka-sensei...Iruka-sensei?" Suzume asked, stepping forward.  
"O-oh, sorry," Iruka smiled gently, having missed what Suzume said. Wide-eyed and speechless, he was finding it difficult to look anywhere but towards the six foot one inch jounin staring down at him. Suzume crossed her arms and tapped her foot, frustrated. "Could you repeat that?"  
"I said—"  
"There's no need to reschedule," Kakashi interrupted, disliking the dark haired woman more, with every passing second. "Iruka-sensei will go, but I fail to see why he's needed for some teacher meeting."  
"Kakashi-sama, I am a teacher," Iruka blushed, "and I'm also Head of the Instructors Union."  
Kakashi rolled his eye, not at all surprised that someone of such infinite meticulousness and organization skills would be the head of some teachers' organization. "Of course you are."  
"I must attend every meeting."  
"Of course you do."  
"Are you offering to watch over my class, Kakashi-sama?"  
"Yes," Kakashi's head fell to the side, his mind defeated. "Now go...your colleague is falling over herself with impatience," he grumbled, but Iruka smiled. Once again, Kakashi found himself lured into something he didn't want to do, by a persistent chunin sensei with a sharp mind and a seemingly harmless demeanor. He took hold of Iruka's arm and pulled him forward. "I plan to break your students, in your absence, Iruka-sensei." He let go, just as quickly, to gauge the younger man's response.  
To his disappointment, Iruka was not the frowning, fearful mess he had hoped for. "We'll see who breaks, Kakashi-sama," the chunin said, grinning daringly. Kakashi's smirk fell. "Class, I have a meeting to attend, but I leave you in the more than capable hands of our newly appointed Hokage. He will instruct you for the remainder of the lesson, but I'm sure to be back before lunch break," he beamed. "Yes, Ani-chan?"  
"Iruka-sensei," Ani's voice quivered and her eyes glistened, "please don't leave us alone with Hokage-sama."  
"Are you kidding me?" Tsuki stood, glaring at Ani. "The Hokage-sama is so cool! He said he might kill us!"  
"That's not a good thing, you idiot," Take barked back, not caring to even glance in Tsuki's direction. "Just because he can say whatever he wants, doesn't mean he should," he sneered, staring Kakashi dead-on.  
"That's funny...Iruka-sensei said something similar to that," Kakashi mumbled, thoughtfully holding his chin.  
"You just don't know what's cool, Take-kun," Tsuki jeered, falling back into his seat.  
Take flushed red, "And you're just a complete and utter idiot!"  
"Oi!" Twenty bodies bolted at the sound of Kakashi's voice. Walking back to Iruka-sensei's desk, he didn't see their responses and didn't care for them but was glad to hear them shut up already. "Notice anything different?" he drawled, crossing his arms. A few hands went up. "That was a rhetorical question," he barked, "you mindless automatons.  
"Iruka-sensei is gone, so there's no one here to hold your hand; to encourage you, to mother you, or ease your failures. To be a Shinobi, you must learn a foundation of self-reliance that can only be found through pushing your skills to the very limits of your abilities. Before Naruto became a man of my team, he had less chakra control than a newborn baby. Not that I was his greatest influence, but I pinned him up against another, time and time again, to force some semblance of progression."  
Kakashi leaned forward, gleeful at the pale faces staring back at him. "You get stronger, when you truly believe it is you up against the entire world."  
Twenty students gulped in fear.  
"Stand up," Kakashi demanded, and everyone, even a reluctant Take, stood from their seats. "Get into groups of two and find a spot in the center of the room." He joyfully watched Iruka's students trudge down the rows. Half of them remained frightened and unwilling to believe that their quick-tempered yet generally nurturing sensei would leave them with a demon man.  
"I've got Take-kun!" Tsuki announced, wrapping an arm around the smaller boy. Take froze, sinking into a dangerously low scowl. The students quickly formed groups of two. Kakashi was satisfied, as the new fear in Iruka's students made his role as substitute instructor a lot easier.  
Still, there were three students Kakashi deemed a possible threat to his perfectly structured plan: the academically enthusiastic Ani, the unusually hyper, eager, and dumb Tsuki, and Take...whatever that boy may be. To his misfortune, two of those three threats just happened to pair themselves together.  
"Why are we doing this, exactly?" Take asked, trying to ignore the hold that connected him to a ridiculously stupid redheaded boy. Kakashi just looked at him, critically, wondering if he'd ever figure Take out.  
"I already told you what you're going to do," he said. "Part one of the lesson will focus on chakra build-up. I want to see who can produce the strongest amount of chakra, so...I'm going to pin you up against each other," Kakashi shrugged, adding a thumb's up to his demented smile.  
Chapter Six  
'Hiro searched the grounds like a wild man, too consumed by the fire of Aimi's touch. He couldn't allow her to disappear from his sights, not ever again...'  
"Hokage-sama, nothing is happening."  
"Try again, until you are able to repel."  
'He found her at the hot springs, standing in a pool of her own robes. Her bare, curvaceous figure stood out amongst the steamy tongues of smoke lapping at her moist body. They danced in a symphony of still silence, urging him forward like come-hither fingers.'  
"Hokage-sama, he keeps pushing me but I can't push back."  
"It means he's got a better grasp on how to focus his chakra, and you don't."  
'Then she turned and he stared, transfixed, as the soft tendrils adorning her face caressed her pink shoulders. Aimi gazed upon him, her eyes filled with passion and wanton need.'  
"That's what I keep doing, but nothing is happening."  
"Mm... then maybe you weren't cut out to be a ninja," Kakashi said in a bored tone, leaving another one of Konoha's hopeful to sulk back to their spot. Kakashi gave the retreating a brief glance, as he did with the rest of the class, before returning to the back-up Icha Icha volume he always kept stashed in an interior pocket of his pants. Now leaning up against Iruka's desk once more, with his legs crossed in their usual idle manner, he tried very hard to care for and tend to the needs of Iruka's students but found himself so unbelievably bored that, not even a few minutes into the exercise, he was reaching for his back pocket.  
He read a few lines and scanned the room, read a few lines and scanned the room. Read a few lines…the jounin found no difficulty in juggling his novel and the twenty children left in his charge.  
'Aimi mouthed "I want you," as gracefully as a fallen angel, sent from the heavens to feed Hiro's every desire. Hiro approached her with suspenseful steps, determined to…  
Kakashi sighed and looked up again. He could have sworn he heard disbelief: the excitement of a student succeeding where so many of his or her peers had failed in the last half hour, but alas…Kakashi looked up and saw only struggling brats who likened themselves to that of true ninja. He noted Ayaka with her partner. Her face was strained with frustration. Was she the student he had just dismissed?  
But she wasn't the only face sunken in with hopelessness and pained with an inability to push out a portion of their chakra. The majority of the class, all of whom approached Kakashi in some fashion, adorned the same trying face as they pushed the palms of their hands into the hands of another.  
Kakashi frowned, and the book in his hand went limp, because he couldn't focus on the story's drive when so many little whiny voices whimpered and groaned at the task he had given them. In fact, the only group not making a sound was Tsuki and Take's, and that was only because they never started the exercise to begin with.  
Kakashi lifted up his book once again, but more for a disguise than for actual reading. He didn't want the little horrors to think he wasn't busy, otherwise they'd all charge him at once with questions he couldn't be bothered to answer. He showed them the proper way, told them what feeling to expect when their chakra flow was being manipulated. For this exercise, it was a test of determination more than real skill. Any promising ninja could exert a pulse of chakra, no matter how big. Regardless, he kept his eye and his ears open for any development. He prepared himself to give more instruction, to teach in the helpful way Iruka probably expected.  
"You pervert." Kakashi looked down the side of his book and directly into the face of the one and only Take. His one visible brow managed to rise into his headband more times than ever before, when confronted with the boy, but the jounin had to admit that Take left an impression, even if it wasn't a very good one.  
"I'm not a pervert," Kakashi smiled. "Go away."  
"Yes you are," Take insisted. Not surprisingly, the boy's voice didn't magically disappear as his face did, when Kakashi blocked it with his open book. He went back to pretending not to care about the progress of Iruka's students, while hoping beyond hope that Take would cross his arms and brood back to the table he so defiantly squatted on only a few minutes into the exercise. "Only perverts read that trashy novel."  
Kakashi looked down the side again, assaulted with angry hazel eyes…again. "Ne, how would you know? Have you ever read this series before?"  
"No!" Take said a bit too quickly, his face blushing madly. It was amusing and oh so familiar to Kakashi. With that skin tone, Take's face went red the same way his beloved sensei's face went red. "I just know that they're filled with no good nonsense."  
"Yes, nonsense. Now go away." Kakashi held his book out once more, overjoyed by the visual difference.  
Take scowled, his eyes burning into the cover of Kakashi's book with unbridled deviousness. "I'm sure Iruka-sensei would love to hear about your taste in reading…when in front of his impressionable students."  
Kakashi frowned again, working very hard to conceal his unease. "Who says Iruka-sensei has to know?" Take's sinister smile was pure evil to Kakashi's eyes, as he challenged the jounin with a cold-hearted stare. To make matters worse, Kakashi had exposed a weak point that Take could easily take advantage of. Kakashi should have played it cool and nonchalant, as if he couldn't care less. But how could he not care, knowing the punishment Iruka would surely bestow upon him? If Iruka ever caught wind of him reading Icha Icha in front of his students, Kakashi had no doubt that the less capable chunin would reign down upon him with spontaneous strength and a battle cry with a volume unnatural to human ears.  
"I say Iruka-sensei has to know, Hokage-sama," Take grinned cheekily. "Or, maybe he doesn't have to know. It all depends."  
"What do you want?" Kakashi drawled, his eye shifting about the busy classroom.  
"I want you to do what Iruka-sensei left you here to do and teach us a lesson," Take stated firmly. Kakashi's head fell back as he slumped against Iruka's desk, tortured by the idea. A spawn of all evil, cleverly disguised as a little boy, oozed with conviction that the jounin could not deny. Take was out for blood.  
"I am teaching you a lesson," Kakashi argued, but he was already closing his book and shoving it down that expertly concealed back pocket. "Why aren't you practicing the exercise I gave you?" Kakashi asked, his lazy gaze searching the room for Take's group partner. Tsuki was currently moving about the classroom, with energetic speed that could rival a ramen-fueled Naruto, trying to join in with other groups. But each group wrote him off, leaving the graceless redhead to slump back into his seat with his head in his arms.  
"This exercise is too easy for me. It's not worth my time," Take scowled, with his hands on his hips. Kakashi's eye went wide, staring at what could only be considered a mini Iruka stance embodied by a demon. Take had the scarred man's signature pose and his signature frown down to a 'T', but it was all wrong…there was an air of arrogance in Take that Umino Iruka simply did not possess.  
"Maa, what about your partner," Kakashi asked with furrowed brow, nodding towards the boy sitting jadedly behind the rest of the class. "Wouldn't you agree that he could use the practice?"  
Take didn't even look back to his group partner, staring at Kakashi with even more annoyance. "He's such a distraction. I want more challenging exercises."  
"Practice fluctuating chakra with Tsuki, for a bit, and then we'll move on to something else." Take eyed him, untrustingly, but said nothing more, and Kakashi watched the small boy march away, over to where Tsuki sat in someone else's seat. Kakashi prided himself on having superb hearing because, on many occasions, such advanced auditory skills had saved him from an enemy scheme. However, amongst the obnoxious and undistinguishable chatter of the students, he couldn't hear the words shared between the two boys. Take turned his head, making it impossible to read his lips, and Kakashi was quite curious to know what the silver haired boy said to get Tsuki to jump from his seat with such determined enthusiasm.  
"YOSH! YOU'RE GONNA PRACTICE WITH ME!" Kakashi heard that.  
In fact, Kakashi was quite certain that the entire village heard Tsuki's excitement, but the class remained unfazed and strangely immune to the high volume of the bandaged boy's voice. Tsuki leaped up and tackled Take, who quickly countered by stepping to the side, leaving the other boy to fall, face first, into a desk.  
"Hokage-sama?" Kakashi looked down to where that familiar, sad, high-pitched voice of a little girl now possessed a timid face to go with it. He scolded himself, for forgetting he was supposed to be using his Icha Icha as a shield, but it wasn't entirely his fault. No…the demon he now saw, standing at the back of the class with his hands pressed against Tsuki's palms… He was the person to blame.  
"Yes, Ayaka-chan?" he replied, sighing with great woe.  
Ayaka looked down to the floor, causing her blue pig-tails to falls over her shoulders. "I know that I keep messing up and stuff," she whimpered, twiddled her fingers, and kneaded the ball of her foot into the floor, "but I know I have what it takes to be a…a…" She looked up again, tears brimming in her eyes. "I don't want to be a failure. I want to be a ninja."  
"Why are you crying?" Kakashi asked, truly surprised. He didn't know what else to say. There was no cause for crying. Why was Ayaka crying?  
"Y-you hurt my feelings, Hokage-sama," she sobbed into the sleeves of her arms.  
Kakashi's eyes went wide. He looked around, to all the other small faces staring back at him with some variation of the same hopelessness and dejection. He could only imagine what Iruka would think if he walked through that classroom door and found eighteen small faces staring back at him with eyes glazed over in sadness…Kakashi saw a lot of malevolence in his future. He saw Iruka quitting his personal assistant position before it could even begin. Only his personal ninken would be allowed to dwell in Iruka's apartment, leaving Kakashi to sulk on the chunin's rooftop, should he even be so lucky.  
"Did I hurt your feelings?" he asked the class and was awarded with firm nods from every student.  
Then there was a loud crash from the back of the classroom.  
Kakashi followed the lethal stench of danger and, instead, saw something he simply could not believe. He afforded himself enough time, not that a high level jounin of his caliber needed much time, and managed to buffer Tsuki's fall before the boy could crash into a pale teal wall. The noise level increased by tenfold, with squeals and screams, and a whole lot of other unnecessary noises that little kids made when caught by surprised. Kakashi managed to tune them out, focusing on the boy in his arms who was just flung into four desks, one right after the other.  
"Are you alright?" Kakashi asked urgently, checking Tsuki over for any severe physical damage.  
Tsuki's eyes swirled in their sockets, while a wavy smile slithered across his mouth. Other than the growing lump that gloved fingers felt on the top of his forehead, Tsuki was unharmed.  
"Take is a lot stronger than I thought he was," Tsuki wheezed, still grinning. Kakashi looked at Take, while still hunched over and pressed firmly against the wall. He stared at the boy with the kind of vehemence he normally reserved for reckless opponents. The jounin could feel the pulse of chakra still imprisoned in Take's fists and felt its desperate need for escape. It was a strong, powerful force. Kakashi had to wonder if Iruka was even aware that one of his students possessed such chakra and what they were capable of doing with such strength. Take slowly lowered his arms and it relieved Kakashi to see some semblance of reaction from the boy, like the shock in his hazel eyes. What he did here, whatever burst of energy that was, was not intentional. He didn't have to wonder whether or not Take was even aware of his own untrained abilities. He wasn't.  
Soon that vulnerability in Take's eyes morphed back into a familiar scowl, as his gaze traveled across the room, glaring at all those faces staring back at him.  
"Of course he hurt your feelings," he shot back at the class, all of who stepped back from the force of Take's voice. "He's not some great Kage. He's just a man…and a pervert." Iruka's students didn't move to agree or disagree, too unnerved by whatever just happened; whatever they just saw, which was Take, a fellow peer, throwing another student across the room.  
"Tsuki-kun."  
"Meh?" Tsuki replied, ever so stupidly.  
"Can you get up?" Kakashi asked, his eye still fixed on Take.  
"Y-yeah," the little boy managed whimsically, "I think I can do that." With a few uncertain steps, and much support from the jounin, Tsuki managed to clamber on to his own two feet. He had a few missteps, all of which Kakashi balanced with arms cuffed under Tsuki's shoulders. Tsuki turned on Take, with narrowed eyes and a slurred speech. "Heyy…y-you can, can, can't talk about the Hokage like that. He's a war hero," he beamed proudly, slowly coming away from what could have been a severe head injury.  
"Tch…" Take scoffed, crossed his arms, and said nothing. The attitude was so familiar to Kakashi, so familiar. It took the jounin back to a time, not long ago, when he had students, and he tried not to put a name and a face to the memories flooding his brain, reminding him of a genius student he once likened to himself.  
"Everyone get back into your groups." The students quickly obeyed Kakashi's orders, aware of the danger in his tone. It was a credit to Iruka's teaching skills, to have such perceptive students. "You; sit this one out," he told Tsuki, setting him on the first platform. He expected the boy to complain, but if the distant grin on his bandaged face was any indication of how far gone he was… "You'll be alright." Kakashi grazed a hand through Tsuki's shocking red locks, before returning to the front of the class. "Listen up," he addressed the class. "We're going to try this again but, this time, I want you to really concentrate."  
He looked to Ayaka, offering the girl a crinkled-eye smile.  
"You have to relax and focus your energy, until you can feel it in the palms of your hands. Start with a hand seal, to help ease the flow of chakra. This is simply a small form of manipulation. You want to trap the energy into a concentrated area, however large the amount, and release it. At the average level of this class, every student should be able to produce a small pulse that can be felt by your partner."  
"What about Take-kun?" Ani asked, stepping forward. She stared at the boy in question, with uncertainty in her eyes. "What he did doesn't seem average."  
"He's different." Kakashi followed her gaze and stared at the boy standing at the head of the class. Iruka's students returned to their spots, including Ani, and Kakashi was put off by their collective silence. However, they took his advice into consideration, starting with hand signs to better help concentrate their chakra flow.  
"Ah…!" Kakashi caught sight of a student with sandy blonde hair a full brown eyes. He was staring back at his Hokage with excitement. "I can feel it, Hokage-sama. It's working!"  
"I feel it too!" exclaimed the boy's partner, as her own hands pushed back against the repellence.  
"Good," Kakashi nodded, his eyes wandering over more students and their increasing progress.  
What had changed? He had only said a few words, Kakashi thought. Even his team, Team 7, needed constant words of encouragement and reassuring smiles to get them to perform accordingly. Kakashi couldn't remember a time anyone encouraged him, throughout his entire Shinobi career. It was expected of him to do only the best.  
The class burst with erratic whoops and joyful laughter, all in response to some degree of accomplishment. He watched students push and push back with simple exertions of energy, and Kakashi crossed his arms with his own sense of accomplishment. He experienced this feeling many times before, on missions with Team 7 that showed some semblance of team improvement. The satisfaction felt after a successful mission could easily compare to knowing that your knowledge of the ninja way was shaping the careers of future generations. Kakashi then rolled his eye, thinking that this must be the reason why Iruka was so dedicated to his students. It was either that or the chunin truly had an average skill level.  
"I did it. I did it, Hokage-sama," Ayaka smiled, her droopy eyes brimming with bland excitement. She was vaguely reminiscent of that one friend of Konohamaru's, the glasses wearing one whose nose used to drip with snot.  
He quickly brushed the thought away, tilted his head, and smiled. "Feel better?"  
"Yes!" she nodded eagerly, returning to her partner's side. The entire class was more eager, as whole, practicing continuously to the point where Kakashi could sense a gradual increase in the strength of their chakra signatures. Not only was Iruka's class determined, good listeners, but they were also rather advanced. Even so, Kakashi had already made chunin by their age, so it was nothing to brag about. It then occurred to the jounin that he didn't even know what their ages were but, with this amount of untapped potential, they had to be ten or eleven, at least.  
"How old are you, anyway?" Kakashi asked the blue haired girl.  
"I'm ten, Hokage-sama," Ayaka giggled.  
"Is every student here ten years of age?"  
"Yeah," she faltered, her glance shifting uncertainly in the opposite direction, "except for Take. Take's nine."  
"I see." Ten was a fitting age for this class, even more so, considering they exceeded the average skill level of a normal pre-genin class. Kakashi underestimated them, he could admit, watching the students jump back from one another. Now they were functioning with an acceptable level of class progress, so Iruka couldn't lecture him for not teaching. Kakashi found all his attention falling on the nine-year-old boy still standing at the back of the class. As usual, Take stood with a frown on his brow and his arms crossed defiantly against his chest. His gaze had never wandered from Kakashi. The jounin could feel it on the back-burner of his vigilant mind, judging him for some unknown reason. He was an adult; furthermore, a jounin and a village leader, who didn't need to answer or respond to the unexplainable hatred of a little boy.  
With that in mind, Kakashi reached into his back pocket and pulled out his security Icha Icha, while his own challenging stare never wandered from Take's. Sitting on the edge of Iruka's desk, the jounin grazed his fingers over to find that all-telling, overworked bend in the book binding. The right page revealed itself in a matter of seconds, and Kakashi continued his reading.  
"Yo, young one!" He didn't look up, familiar with his ninken suddenly appearing in his presence.  
"Hello Pakkun," Kakashi hummed, turning a page.  
Pakkun padded his feet over Iruka's desk, taking in his environment. He noted the classroom, the students, the morning sun starting to peep through the open window, and the distinct smell of Iruka all over the place, but he spotted no chunin in his presence. "Where's Iruka-sensei?" he asked, looking to his master. Kakashi, however, was too engrossed in his reading to care, or was ignoring him simply because he could, which was most often the case. "Hey, I'm talking to you..!"  
Pakkun growled and nudged Kakashi with his paw, gaining more than just the jounin's attention. Kakashi looked up, not because of Pakkun, but because all of Iruka's students had suddenly grown eerily bug-eyed and quiet. They were all frozen in place, with a look of fascination on their faces. Hands in mid-air and chakra control forgotten, their round eyes stared at Pakkun with a predatory gaze.  
"Look!" cried some girl. "It's a puppy! He's so cute!"  
Kakashi sighed, "Now, look what you've done." He jumped out of the way, just in time to escape the rush of children crowding Iruka's desk. Pakkun might as well been on the moon, alone in his efforts to get away from the many grubby hands trying to touch his fur. The glare he afforded Kakashi quickly changed to fear and desperation, when a group of rambunctious little girls managed to get a hold of his body.  
"Let go of me, you crazy pups!"  
"He can talk too!" another girl giggled, threatening to decapitate the poor pug with her merciless hold.  
"He can talk?" asked a boy. "I want to see him! That's so cool!" Suddenly all the boys tried to sidle through the girls, until everyone had caught some portion of Kakashi's ninken.  
"Yes! I can talk," Pakkun breathed, his face going purple, "but I like breathing more—let go of me! Kakashi do something!" The masked man took Pakkun's plea into consideration as well as how the students managed to confiscate his tail, his ears, his head, and every limb. He knew he couldn't just stand to the side reading his Icha Icha, knowing that Iruka's class would, eventually, rip his hound in two. "Let go, I say!" Eventually the students let go, but they continued to dote and fawn over the pug, as though he were a young pup.  
"Look at those little paws."  
"He's so adorable. What kind of puppy are you?"  
"I'm a pug, and do I sound like a puppy?"  
"Aww…he's all angry. That's so adorable!"  
"Maa, alright then… he's just a ninken, nothing more. Everyone, back to your positions," Kakashi breathed, but his orders went on deaf ears. He shrugged, indifferent to the students' unresponsiveness. Glancing off, he spotted Tsuki and Take: the only two who didn't move to kill Pakkun with unwanted affection.  
"I wanna go see the dog," Tsuki whined.  
"Don't be an idiot," Take sneered. "You can barely lift your head. If you try to stand up, you'll probably fall on your face."  
"Yeah, and whose fault would that be?" Tsuki sulked, missing the hurt in Take's eyes. The boy reached up to knead the large bump in the back of his head. "Take, why do you have to be so cruel?"  
"I'm not being cruel. I'm being sensible." Take stared at the other boy, pointedly, a sense of unwanted guilt taking over his features. "And I didn't mean to do that…I'm sorry, but you'll only injure yourself even more by being stupid."  
"No I won't."  
"Tch…yes you will. You always do." Despite Take's warning, Tsuki immediately stood and nearly fell over his own disorientation. Take quickly reached out and caught the redhead, wrapping an arm over his shoulders. Tsuki's weight fell on the slighter boy, causing him to wince, but Take kept a strong hold to stop the other boy from falling flat on his face as he predicted. He glared at him, a prominent scowl on his face. "You idiot."  
Tsuki grinned.  
"You got him?" The two looked up to see their Hokage looking down at them, with his book still in hand.  
"Yes," Take said tersely, glaring at the Icha Icha book. "Filth."  
"What was that?"  
"Hokage-sama, I don't feel too good," Tsuki chuckled.  
"I told you not to get up!" Take growled, frustrated. He turned on Kakashi. "When are we going to do something else? Or will I have to tell Iruka-sensei about how you spent all your time reading about naked ladies?"  
"Hey, this book isn't just about stuff like that," Kakashi defended, completely missing the point. "It's an actual story, with dialogue and situations. It's rather well written too, if I do say so myself."  
"Naked ladies?" Tsuki's head shot up, alert at as an eager dog. "Where?" Take let go with narrowed eyes, leaving Tsuki to fall to the floor. "Ow!"  
"Teach us something else, or I tell Iruka-sensei about that book."  
"What makes you think Iruka-sensei doesn't already know?"  
"You wouldn't be here, if he did. He would never allow that kind of trash in here."  
"Take…! Are you trying to kill me?"  
Kakashi found himself in a stand-off. Two citizens of the leaf were engaged in a battle of intimidation: him and Take. For the life of him, he couldn't explain why a nine-year-old, pre-genin child wouldn't back down to him, a full grown, jounin Shinobi, and a Hokage at that. No one defied Kakashi; well, no one in their right mind…the fighting gleam in Take's eyes was strikingly familiar to the stare he often received from a particular brown haired and brown-eyed chunin sensei.  
He suddenly relented, realizing the ridiculousness of the situation. He was being blackmailed by a nine-year-old brat. No wonder he never took on a team until Team 7. He didn't have the time or patience for kids, and their antics, which is why he told Team7 he didn't like them the moment he met them. He should have elaborated, back then …he didn't like them because they were useless and unskilled, and because they dropped an eraser filled with chalk on his head. More important was skill and usefulness and, somewhere, underneath all that anger in Take, rested a dormant well of energy. Kakashi's stare turned thoughtful…what Take did to Tsuki was uncommon for a boy so obviously untrained. He couldn't ignore that strength— that untapped potential.  
"Well? What's your answer, Hokage-sama?" Take spat venomously, but Kakashi ignored it. He looked to the boy rocking on the floor, cradling his head in his hands, and the students barricading Pakkun on top of Iruka's desk. He sighed, his book hand falling to the side.  
"Alright."  
"Hey, doggy? What's your name?"  
"My name is Pakkun. I am one of the Hokage's ninken," a defeated Pakkun cringed, answering tiredly.  
"A ninken? You mean, like a ninja dog?"  
"Yes. I am part of a summoning that has been past down the Hatake line for generations." Pakkun looked all around him, surrounded by giant curious human eyes. A mixture of boys and girls stared back at him, now more intrigued by what he was than by what he looked like. It was a nice change, in his opinion. Pakkun couldn't recall the last time he'd been pinched in so many places.  
"So, you're the Hokage-sama's pet?"  
"No! I'm not a pet!" he growled, but his small body proved to be his downfall once again. Like so many others, these kids did not feel he posed a threat. But he refused to be considered as Kakashi's pet, even if that was basically his retirement plan. "A ninken is different from a domestic dog. We can be sent away and summoned to appear for immediate action. We fight in battle and are used in stealth tactics."  
"Your fur is soft," cooed one kid, who quickly followed that opinion with rough rubs down Pakkun's back. The dog winced, as the kid pulled on the skin so hard that it stretched his eye sockets.  
"Don't do that, please. I mean it," he warned, but a few more kids were only encouraged to join in. "Stop it!" Pakkun howled, amongst the giggles and childish chatter. "I'll bite you all!"  
"Hey, Iruka-sensei's students," drifted a distinctive and nearby voice. Iruka's class looked around the room frantically, searching for the source but found none. "Look up." Like mindless sheep, eighteen pairs of eyes looked up to find their Hokage and substitute instructor smiling back at them, upside-down.  
"Whoa…" Tsuki gasped, looking up from the floor.  
Despite himself, Take looked equally impressed.  
"I guess it's time we move on to another exercise," Kakashi breathed, with his feet firmly planted against the ceiling.  
"That's so cool!" someone yelled, and eyes went wide with surprise and excitement. Kakashi chuckled at how easily impressed they were. He walked in a full circle, to put on a show, and wasn't disappointed to hear a wide range of compliments. Did they expect anything less from a Hokage? He walked over them for a bit longer, allowing the students to reach out for the falling ends of his robes.  
"Consider this your example for the next part of the lesson," Kakashi announced, his eye wandering the crowd of students just a few feet below. "Apart from being able to exert the chakra that is necessary to perform the ninja arts, you must also know how to manipulate it in what would be considered a controlled region." With his book-free hand, Kakashi pointed towards his feet. "The difference between manipulating the flow of one's chakra and maintaining its control is this: where I stand, I'm producing enough chakra to my feet to reinforce my position. For all technical purposes I am grounded when, in actuality, I am not."  
Kakashi released himself, turning mid-fall to land square on his feet. He noted the little gazes following him, when he stood from his crouching position. "Now, instead of channeling that energy into the palms of your hand, you will now redirect your chakra flow into the bases of your feet, control it, and use that chakra control to walk up the walls."  
That rare moment of silence soon turned into a ruckus of excited cheers. Iruka's class was revved up, determined, and Kakashi liked to see that. Running the risk of sounding like his dear friend Gai, Kakashi could see that the future of their village was secured, with the promise of generations able to harness the will of fire. Watching them now as they scattered back into their original positions, face to face with their group partner, Kakashi couldn't help but think about Sandaime-sama and his sensei, the Yondaime.  
Standing in his position, watching the future of their village, did they ever have thoughts like this?  
"So what's our stance?" Take stepped down from the platform. "How do we accomplish this, anyway?" he asked, annoyed and skeptic.  
"The same as before," Kakashi shrugged, which proved to irritate Take even more. "You need to concentrate on focusing that chakra downwards. Then manage to contain a percentage of that chakra into your feet. With this method, you can climb any hard surface as though you were simply walking down a road," he told the entire class. "The very same method is then heightened to walk on water; however, I will not be teaching you that lesson."  
The students sulked, but Kakashi couldn't find it in him to care. With any luck, Iruka would walk through the class door, any second now, and rescue him from the tedious task of teaching.  
"You do not need partners, but keep in mind that the hand sign is vital to developing and manipulating your flow of chakra," Kakashi muttered mindlessly, flipping through the pages of his recently reopened Icha Icha. It never even occurred to him to once acknowledge the small pug resettling himself against the desk.  
"Please, tell me this isn't what you've been dealing with all morning?"  
Kakashi didn't answer.  
"Hey, I'm talking to ya!"  
"Oh…? Did you say something, Pakkun?" Kakashi muttered, skimming a page with his eye.  
Pakkun eyed his master wearily, trying to forgive the young man's insufferable personally but failing miserably. He then took notice of the familiar dark green paperback covering of Kakashi's book and grew curious. "What happened to Iruka-sensei's rule about you not having any Icha Icha near the Academy?"  
"It was never a rule," Kakashi stated dryly, his eyes widening over a particularly provocative paragraph. "Even if there was a rule," Kakashi added, "what makes you think I would not break it in his absence?"  
"Aren't you concerned about the consequences?" Pakkun asked, flinching with the mere thought of what thunderous volumes and quick-tempered acts of violence Iruka would bestow upon the unusually ignorant jounin.  
"Like Iruka-sensei scares me," Kakashi lied, scoffing as he flipped another page.  
"Sure," Pakkun rolled his eyes, watching the class. He saw a redheaded kid climb to his feet, cradling his head, and had to wonder if a particular silver haired masked man had anything to do with why the boy was on the floor to begin with. "Where's Iruka-sensei, anyway?"  
"He was called away, to an urgent meeting," Kakashi answered, unfazed. "He left me in charge of teaching the day's lesson to his students." He looked over the edge of his book briefly, catching Take practicing the exercise, just like everyone else. There was a bit less determination in his stance, less strain, and more calm and focus than any of the other children.  
"Well that's good," the pug muttered.  
Kakashi narrowed his eye, curious about Pakkun's statement. "How is that good?" he frowned, but Pakkun didn't respond. The jounin went on reading his book, every now and then taking the time to assess the progress of Iruka's students. The thought occurred to him that kids this young were, perhaps, too eager and would attempt to walk the walls before they were fully prepared. This thought took shape the moment Tsuki took a spot beside Take and joined in on the activity. "Don't rush it," he warned, gaining the students' attention. "I know; you're all eager to walk the walls, but keep in mind that you'll fall without the proper control and, most likely, break your neck." He ended with a smile.  
The students gulped.  
"Having fun, traumatizing their childhoods?"  
"Maa, I am trying," Kakashi said whimsically, book in his face, "but they're making it so difficult. They're sharp kids, and they're focused too."  
"Harassing a ninken is hardly a focused action," the pug grumbled bitterly. He couldn't blame the little pups, though. He was, after all, a stunning sight to behold. With that thought in mind, Pakkun smirked, knowing that all those little pink hands couldn't get enough of him. Then his thoughts turned sober again, reminding himself of the distracted jounin sitting beside him. "Hey, there's something I wanted to discuss with you," he said.  
"What's that?" Kakashi asked, with his attention split between the ninken and the novel.  
"It's about Iruka-sensei."  
"What about Iruka-sensei?"  
"Don't tell me you didn't notice," Pakkun grumbled, lowering his voice. The change in tone caught Kakashi's attention. He lowered his book and turned towards the pug. Pakkun frowned, as the curiosity expressed in Kakashi's wide eye was upsetting. He would have hoped that Kakashi would have notice something off-putting, concerning Iruka-sensei. "Yesterday, after his classes here, at the Academy, where did Iruka-sensei go?"  
"He goes to the mission room for desk duty," Kakashi said simply, his voice equally conserved. "That's no different from any other day. It's his daily routine."  
"I know that," Pakkun growled. "After desk duty, Iruka went straight to your offices to assess his assistant duties."  
"Yeah, and you and the rest of those backstabbing mutts turned him against me—"  
"Then he went home—with you tagging along, mind you."  
"So?"  
"So?" The word was bitter on the pug's tongue. "What do you mean 'So'?" Pakkun circled around angrily, frustrated with Kakashi's nonchalant attitude. "Iruka-sensei works eight hours here, eight hours in the mission room, and then he spends the rest of his nights dealing with you. He even let your ninken sleep in his bed, and you say 'So'?"  
"Does this have a point, Pakkun?"  
"Iruka-sensei didn't sleep last night and, with how low his energy levels are, I doubt he's slept much in the last few days either. I thought he was going to faint, this morning," Pakkun frowned, staring down at his paws as they padded over the wooden surface of Iruka's desk. Every now and then his tail beat against what could only be Iruka's pencil cup. "I don't know why it took me so long to notice, but Iruka-sensei is practically depleted of energy."  
"I know. He's disguising his signature."  
"What…?"  
"I said," Kakashi closed his book against his lap, "he's disguising his signature. I noticed it earlier, in class. At some point, he lost focus and didn't havethe energy to disguise his lack of energy. It left me wondering why he would want to disguise something like that, in the first place." Kakashi tapped his chin thoughtfully. Pakkun, however, could think of several reasons why Iruka would want to disguise his low energy levels in front of a jounin who prided himself on being strong and able for any given situation.  
The small ninken padded forward, pressing his front paws against Kakashi's thigh. "Do me a favor, Kakashi, and try not to overwork Iruka-sensei." His stern glare suddenly fell into worry. "It seems like he's got a lot on his plate, including you and your torment. Maybe he's taking Tsunade-sama's passing harder than we thought. But whatever the reason may be, cut Iruka-sensei some slack, and try not to scare away the one person that can tolerate you for an abnormal amount of time."  
The jounin sat quietly, considering what Pakkun was saying. Undoubtedly, the emotion in the pug's eyes was worry, accompanied by the same expression Kakashi could have sworn he saw from the ninken that morning. "What's with you," Kakashi inquired challengingly. "I would think you were Iruka-sensei's ninken, if you weren't already mine."  
Pakkun growled at the jounin, swatting him with his paw. "Some times I wish I was," he sneered, earning an eyeful scowl from Kakashi, "but I always take care of the people that take care of me. Maybe you should start doing the same."  
"Hey, genius." Kakashi and Pakkun looked up, thrown off by what they saw. Above their heads appeared a rather smug looking Take, kneeling against the ceiling.  
"Well, looks like there are some sharp kids in here," Pakkun gasped, his gaping jaw struggling to stay closed.  
Kakashi shot from Iruka's desk, breaking the concentration of the students around him. When their gazes followed the Hokage's, a ripple of high-pitched gasps rippled through the classroom.  
Tsuki couldn't stop from gawking, staring back and forth, between where Take was now and where he used to be. "Whoa…! Take, when did you get up there? How did you get on the ceiling so fast?"  
Take stared back at Tsuki, with a broad smile Kakashi didn't think the boy was capable of expressing. Unlike his partner, the jounin was not impressed. He should have been, but he wasn't. He wasn't irritated by how Take seemed to taunt him either, while hanging upside down. Kakashi shot from Iruka's desk, not because he was angry or astonished but because he felt a rather undeniable bout of fear suddenly coarse through his bloodstream. With his Icha Icha lying forgotten on the desk, gloved hands remained empty and prepared to catch the boy, if he were to fall. Then Take fell from the ceiling, in the same manner Kakashi had, also landing square on his feet. That self-satisfaction on his face quickly turned into his signature scowl, accompanied by crossed arms.  
"How about that, Hokage-sama?" Take chuckled. "I bet you didn't expect a pre-genin to be able to do that. Did you?"  
Kakashi blinked, trying to comprehend that unwarranted worry.  
"Yeah, I thought you'd be speechless."  
"Nothing leaves me speechless, anymore," Kakashi sighed heavily, collecting himself; ignoring the confused glare Pakkun gave him, while reaching back to grab his Icha Icha. "I've seen anything and everything, in every aspect of life," he droned on, shoving the book back into his pocket. "There are things I've seen in battle that would stun you to silence and leave you scarred for life." He looked down at the boy, a dark and dangerous frown lying beneath his mask. "I've seen technique that can leave one breathless, so don't presume you walking about the ceiling without falling would leave me speechless. In fact, it's nowhere near impressive."  
Take stood, silently fuming.  
"Nee? You've got nothing else clever to say?" he chuckled falsely, reaching out to ruffle Take's wild mane of hair. "You are just a little boy, nothing more. I could destroy you. Don't ever think, for one second, you can outsmart me."  
Kakashi failed to feel the eruption festering beneath his touch.  
"I could destroy you too!" It all happened so fast that Kakashi didn't know what information to process first: Pakkun's barking, the children's yelling, or the four foot shrimp attempting to land a kick against his person. He blocked it with one arm. Take came at Kakashi again, this time with a punch to his throat, but the jounin caught Take's wrist with a firm grip. Kakashi was amazed by the boy's speed, even if it was being used against him. When Take twisted to try and land another kick to his skull, Kakashi couldn't help but commend the boy trying to hurt him.  
A few more strategically made blows, and Take had yet to harm him. Kakashi blocked every single hit and grew impatient with every passing second. Then he saw the unmistakable shine of carved metal being pulled from Take's pocket. He quickly dodged the kunai aimed at his head, snatched it from the boy's grip, grabbed him by his hair, and forced him up against Iruka's desk.  
"Kakashi!" The jounin ignored Pakkun's growl, focusing on the hissing sound emitting from Take's throat. The boy tried to shove away, but he pulled at the strands of hair in his grip, until Take's hissing became a pained whimper.  
"Watch yourself!" Kakashi chided, pressing the kunai's blade against the soft skin of Take's neck. "Watch it," he said coldly, "Or you may do something you'll regret."  
"I wouldn't regret killing you," Take spat.  
"Oh no? And why is that, exactly? You have a lot of hate, for a boy I've never met before. Regardless," Kakashi growled, ever so slightly tipping the blade into Take's throat, "whatever your intentions may be, you have no idea how to execute them properly." He leaned forward, until he could see Take's hate staring back at him. "Better you stop whatever this is now, before you end up following a winding path of endless mistakes." The man frowned, gazing into those hardened pools of hazel. "Trust me…I know what that feels like."  
"KAKASHI! NO!" Iruka's petrified students, a stunned Pakkun, and an angry Take turned towards the classroom door, where Iruka himself stood shaking with horror.  
Kakashi let up when Take turned his head, not wanting to accidently cut the boy's throat. He slowly pocketed the weapon and stepped away from Iruka's desk. "Maa, you're back."  
Iruka's jaw dropped. "What the hell do you mean by that? Are you insane! Get away from him!" The younger man stormed in with murder written all over his face. His students scrambled towards the other side of the room and Pakkun jumped off the wooden surface to hide under the hysterical man's desk. "Take! Are you alright?" Take didn't respond but shook violently and clutched the end of Iruka's desk with a death grip. His face remained hidden from everyone, shrouded in darkness. Kakashi stepped back, but that didn't stop Iruka from shoving him out of the way unnecessarily. Frantically worried hands were placed on Take's shoulders, rubbing up and down to soothe his frozen state. "Take?" Iruka chanced, hoping the little boy would respond. To his relief, Take soon turned and buried his face into Iruka's midsection. The chunin quickly wrapped him up in a tight embrace.  
Kakashi watched Iruka's crazed glare search the room before, eventually, landing on him. Although, it wasn't the warm face of a worried teacher that greeted him, only the hateful gleam of a murderous chunin. In this fight or flight situation, Kakashi found himself incapable of escaping in time to avoid the wrath in those intense brown eyes.  
"Early lunch break, today—everyone outside! NOW!" Iruka growled. He wasn't angry at his class, his students. No, Iruka thought heatedly. The only person stupid enough to make him want to lash out and fight him was the tall, broad-shouldered jounin staring back at him with a blank stare. "Everyone leave… please," he said calmly. "We'll resume the lesson after lunch. I think, right now, it's best for everyone to get a bit of fresh air."  
Iruka's tone had softened considerably, much to the appreciation of his fear induced students. As a collective group, they avoided Iruka's desk, their teacher and their masked Hokage. "Bye Hokage-sama," a few of them whispered worryingly, as though they believed this to be their last encounter with the man.  
Unlike his peers, Tsuki took a personal detour, stopping right in front of Kakashi. He beamed with a giant, stupid grin on his face. "I would just like to say, sir, you are the most awesome Hokage I've ever seen. Your lesson was amazing!"  
"I'm glad you liked it," Kakashi shrugged, and he could swear the fire in Iruka's glare increased by tenfold. He reached out, ruffled the boy's rowdy red hair, and then watched him run off to join the rest of the class. Then the classroom door shut close with an ominous 'clink'.  
It was just him, Iruka, Take, and that cowardly mutt he called a ninken hiding under Iruka's desk.  
"Let me take a look at you..." Iruka knelt down, cupping Take's jaw with gentle tan hands. He checked for any injury, any indication that the boy was harmed in any way. He then searched those trembling orbs that grew watery as the seconds drifted by. "Take, look at me. Did he hurt you?"  
"I didn't hurt him," Kakashi responded, appalled that Iruka would even ask that.  
"I wasn't asking you!" Iruka shot back, his eyes never wandering from the trembling boy in his grasp. "What happened?" he asked, hoping Take wasn't too choked up to tell him. But an answer never came, as Take pulled away from Iruka and quickly ran from the room. Both men watched him go, confused and surprised. Eventually, Iruka moved to close the classroom door and, when he did, he turned on Kakashi with all the unrestrained hatred of a merciless enemy. "What the hell did you do?"  
"I didn't do any—"  
"Shut up!" Iruka cut him off. "I don't want to hear it!"  
"But you just said—"  
"What did you do to my student?"  
Iruka lashed out, charging forward to take a swing at Kakashi's head. His movements were much too slow and easily avoidable, so Kakashi managed to catch both of Iruka's wrists in a death-grip. When each of the chunin's fists came at him to punch him in the face, he simply applied more force. However, this did nothing to quell Iruka's determination to physically hurt Kakashi in some way, shape, or form.  
When nothing worked, the chunin quickly settled with pushing against the jounin with the force of his anger. "You were holding a kunai to my student's neck, and you tell me you did nothing? He's a child, Kakashi! What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"  
"In my defense, he—"  
"I DON'T want to hear your excuses!" Iruka shouted, the hot breath of his words pressing firmly against the cloth of Kakashi's mask. "You were pulling Take by the hair...! Why would you do something like that? He was in pain!"  
"Maybe he should get used to feeling pain, if he plans on becoming a Shinobi," Kakashi stated coldly.  
"What is wrong with you?" Iruka breathed, gaping in shock.  
"There's nothing wrong with me," the jounin responded darkly. "I found myself in a situation where I was forced to defend myself, so I reacted accordingly. You can't expect me to go easy on an enemy."  
"He's just a child!"  
"And you can't expect a child to understand discipline, if you do not reinforce it." His eye searched Iruka's heated gaze, hoping that the chunin could accept and understand this truth. "Sometimes it is necessary to be ruthless, if you want something to be understood. That is part of the Shinobi way."  
Kakashi let go, when the force of Iruka's quaking fists subsided. The fight in the chunin's demeanor drifted away, leaving only eyes of quiet fury. Kakashi could have smiled, seeing as the chunin was finally choosing sound reason over his own erratic emotions. It was logical, just, and part of the ninja code that all Shinobi were to obey. Iruka could be as lenient and as caring as he wanted to be, but he could not escape the rules of their world. Kakashi could see that Iruka knew this as well, if the defeat in those pools of sweet brown were any indication...  
SLAP!  
Kakashi didn't anticipate it, just as he hadn't anticipated Take charging him with taijutsu that was above the average level of a pre-genin. The jounin's head turned, due to the force of the blow. Admittedly, he was shocked. One beneath an eye-patch, one visible for the world to see, and both eyes bulged in disbelief. One side of his face stung, even the skin beneath his mask. But all of these facts paled, when Kakashi realized it was Iruka who had just slapped him.  
"Don't you ever put a hand on one of my students. Is that clear?" Iruka hissed, pointing a rigid finger at his face. Kakashi noticed how the younger man's resolve didn't waver. He didn't blush or grow weak. Somehow, he found some unknown source of energy to force upon the older man. True, Kakashi usually fell on Iruka's bad side more times than anyone would be proud of, but he'd never seen Iruka beside him with such anger…hatred.  
There was a vile feeling Kakashi simply could not stomach, when Iruka looked at him that way.  
"You didn't answer me," Iruka spat, pressing into Kakashi. Never mind that he was a Hokage. Kakashi couldn't blame Iruka for giving him exactly what he asked for. No special treatment, he insisted, something the jounin was sure to regret. "Did I make myself clear?"  
"Yes, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi answered, chiding himself for sounding…obedient. Yet he couldn't help the guilt forcing him to submit. He thought back to what Pakkun said, about Iruka and his low energy levels. The younger man exerted more energy through his emotions than one would exert in the most exhausting taijutsu training. Then he taught an eight hour class of ten-year-old brats and that, Kakashi learned, was no easy feat. Then Iruka spent another eight hours working desk duty. Did he really need to make it worse, just to prove again that he was right and Iruka was wrong?  
Kakashi wasn't harming Take. He was teaching him a lesson.  
He could go on, pushing for another argument and Iruka, a tired but proud chunin, would push back until Kakashi ended up doing or saying something he'd regret.  
Like now.  
Maybe the best thing Kakashi could do was relent. "Mm, Iruka-sensei...you know I would never put your students in harm's way." Iruka turned away, his back facing his Hokage. Kakashi didn't know whether to consider this a good sign. After all, Iruka was no longer yelling at him.  
"You are nothing but harmful," Iruka griped, shaking his head. "I'm still so angry at you right now, I don't know what to do with myself so don't think that, for one second, I've forgiven you," he scowled, turning back and stepping forward.  
"Who said I was sorry?" Kakashi scoffed, also stepping forward.  
"Excuse me?" the chunin hissed acidly. "You better be sorry." Their unwavering gazes were inches from one another. Kakashi stepped even closer, until the bridge of Iruka's nose nearly touched the fabric beneath his own.  
"I'm no—"  
"Hey, Iruka, I need t—"  
Iruka stepped away but Kakashi simply turned, as he was not as easily startled. To the jounin's surprise, it was one of his former students staring back at then. "Good morning, Naruto," he greeted the young jounin hanging by the door.  
"Oh...! K-Kakashi-sensei," Naruto breathed, his bright blue eyes growing wide. It was apparent that he didn't expect to see his jounin sensei there, either.  
"H-hey, Naruto," Iruka greeted with uncertainty. He managed a strained smile, even when his eyes darted frantically back and forth between Naruto and Kakashi. "What's up?"  
"What's Kakashi-sensei doing here?" Naruto asked.  
"I—"  
"I asked him to be my guest for today's lesson. I felt Kakashi-san most suited to demonstrate chakra control, and my students would pay a lot more attention to the Rokudaime than me," Iruka laughed. It was a hollow laugh, in Kakashi's opinion.  
"Naruto!" a gruff voice emitted from beneath Iruka's desk. Three pairs of eyes watched as a small body of fur jumped from Iruka's chair to the top of the table. The pug beamed, not knowing the last time he was ever so grateful to see Naruto. "Long time no see, pup," he smirked, silently praying the boy was in no rush to leave. Pakkun didn't want to be stuck in a room with Iruka and Kakashi. He saw the fire in Iruka's eyes, when the chunin charged into the room. He had slumped away in misery, knowing Kakashi would only push Iruka until all that was left of him was an angry, yelling wreck.  
"Hey, Pakkun," Naruto gave the dog a slight grin. "Is everything alright?" he asked, looking between his two former senseis. He could be really dense and unobservant at times, but even Naruto couldn't ignore the danger in the air. His former Academy sensei radiated with quiet rage, the kind that always blew up in his face when he least expected it. He knew that smile and that laugh to be warning signs of Iruka's wrath. "Were you hiding?" he asked Pakkun, trying to understand the situation. It troubled him to think Iruka was upset, especially when Naruto knew how hard the man worked to make his classroom a warm and friendly environment.  
"Don't be ridiculous," Pakkun chided. "I'm a ninken. I don't hide."  
"Well that doesn't sound very reassuring," Naruto breathed.  
"Not to worry, Naruto," Kakashi grinned, reaching back to scratch the back of his head. "Everything is alright."  
Iruka gave Kakashi one last warning look. "I'm sorry, Naruto," the chunin moved towards the blonde, "Things have been a bit...hectic. I just sent the students out for their lunch break," he chuckled again.  
"That's good," Naruto said, but the cheer in his voice was missing. Kakashi, Iruka, and Pakkun noticed something rather off about Naruto's smile. It was almost as if he wasn't smiling at all. He was unusually subdued, much to Kakashi's curiosity, and the subtle clenching of his fists told the older jounin that something rather unsettling had taken place.  
"Something's wrong," he voiced.  
"No," the boy shook his head, "It's, uh…" Naruto fought hard to not even look at Kakashi, which only managed to heighten the man's curiosity. "I need to talk to you about something," he told Iruka, "something, something about..." he paused, his gaze steering clear of the Hokage. "I-I need to talk to Iruka in private, about something."  
"Oh." Iruka placed a reassuring hand on Naruto's shoulder. "I understand," he smiled sadly, knowingly. He offered Naruto a broad smile, hoping that the blonde would smile back. A smile never came. Naruto's eyes were fixed on the floor, as though he could see the thoughts on his mind taking form right there, in the center of Iruka's classroom.  
"Do you have time, Iruka?"  
"Of course I do," Iruka said weakly, shelving away the last of his anger.  
Kakashi was bound to accost him later this evening, so he could wait until then. If the jounin was hungry, he wouldn't feed him. If he wanted to laze about in his apartment, Iruka would kick him out. The chunin would find comfort in spending the night accompanied with caring, good-natured, and entertaining ninken, knowing their master would be gone, somewhere else. He didn't care where.  
"It looks like the students are going to have a longer lunch break, today," he sighed.  
"Thanks."  
"Kakashi-san was just... leaving." Iruka frowned, turning to find the other man gone. He was faced only by a class of dejected children moping around beyond his classroom window.

"So that's where you were," Yamato smiled. "Who knew?"  
"Who knew, what?" the Copy nin asked, leaning against the bar counter.  
"You, helping others, teaching children…" Yamato lifted his cup of sake to his lips, downing more of its contents. "So this is what you do on your spare time, Kakashi-senpai. Instead of making excuses for why you're always late, you should just tell the truth. " Kakashi shrugged, ignoring Yamato's jest and self-indulged laughter. He scanned the bar; noted patrons were scarce this afternoon, which suited Kakashi just fine. His journey here was filled with curious stares from villagers still unused to seeing him as the Hokage. He wasn't just another jounin. Now Kakashi was the Hokage and, for some reason, it made him appear differently.  
"Am I wrong then?" Yamato beamed, in light of Kakashi's silence. "You really do go about the village, helping old ladies and doing other great deeds for helpless villagers?"  
"I think you're letting your imagination get the best of you, Yamato-san," Kakashi glared. He sent two fingers into the air, calling on the bartender to fill his cup with a second round of sake. The bartender, an old and graying man, smiled and bowed before leaving Kakashi in peace. He was, perhaps, the only villager who managed to interact with the Hokage without staring obsessively. Lifting his cup to his masked face, Kakashi could now understand why Tsunade-sama drank so much, if the obligations and consequences of being of Hokage was anything to go by. Then again, she drank like a fish before she ever made Hokage…  
Maybe Kakashi was finding a new vice.  
He knew drinking to be one of Yamato's favorite pastimes, which is why it was so easy to find his fellow jounin. Despite his low tolerance, Yamato didn't mind the odd few drinks, even in the middle of the afternoon. Maybe it would do Kakashi well to spend more of his time here, with Yamato, erasing hectic days with a stiff drink. "For someone of your deductive skills, you would think the Academy would be an obvious place to look for me."  
"Why," Yamato turned, also leaning against the bar counter, "…because Iruka-sensei is there?"  
"Next time, simply look for the chakra signature that is fluctuating with annoyance."  
"But, I wasn't looking for Iruka-sensei. I was looking for you, Kakashi-senpai." Yamato earned a hard stare from the other man, but he smiled in response.  
"That's not funny."  
"It was a little funny," Yamato chuckled, taking another drink. He called the bartender over for his sixth round of sake. Kakashi watched as Yamato thanked the bartender, and the bartender smiled and bowed and went about his own business. The moment felt genuine, normal, as though nothing had changed.  
The air was humid and thick, but the wind creeping through the door flaps helped combat the heated enclosure. Turning on his stool, Kakashi looked down towards the sunny road outside and watched the pedestrian footsteps walk by. Some were of little children, much too young to be enrolled in the Academy, but most of the footsteps came from men and women going about their daily routine. Kakashi envied them, not knowing what the next day would ask of him.  
"Sadistic…" Kakashi muttered, imagining a rather self-satisfied chunin smiling back at him.  
"What was that, Kakashi-senpai?" Yamato leaned over, the ceiling light revealing a faint blush on his face.  
"I said 'Sadistic', as in, Iruka-sensei is sadistic," he said thoughtfully, taking another drink. "When he agreed to be my personal assistant, he decided he would keep my daily activities to himself and tell me whenever he chooses to."  
"Why?"  
"He's more manipulative than you think."  
Another bout of comfortable silence.  
The two men continued to drink, until another round was given to them both. Just like the old days, Kakashi thought, when he had his own Anbu team. He couldn't remember a night or assignment that wasn't filled with either bloodshed or rounds of sake. Among his inferior team members, Yamato had been the one he grew most acquainted with. The almond-eyed man was dedicated to his job, to a respectable fault, but didn't take himself too seriously. He always made for good conversation, not at all intimidated knowing that Copy nin Kakashi was his superior, and he never hesitated to disagree with Kakashi, even when the other jounin always had the final say. In fact, Kakashi couldn't even remember the names of his other Anbu team members. There was just Yamato.  
Kakashi didn't value the input of many people, but Yamato was an exception. "Iruka was angry, angrier than I've ever seen him before." He turned back towards the other man who was nursing his drink, much to Kakashi's annoyance.  
"Oh, I bet," Yamato muttered quickly. "No offense, senpai, but I don't think anyone would be foolish enough to threaten one of Iruka-sensei's students and think they can escape the crossfire…" Yamato paused, noting the defensive glare in Kakashi's eye.  
"I didn't threaten one of his students," Kakashi drawled.  
"From what you told me, it kind of sounds like you did."  
"I was defending myself." Kakashi held his cup within in both hands, staring into the empty white glass with a furrowed brow. "Besides, the boy needed to be disciplined. His potential is great, Yamato," he gave the other man a side glance. "It's rare to have someone with that power not even be aware of it."  
"Naruto…there's Naruto," Yamato mentioned, "and wasn't Sasuke-kun a—"  
"Sasuke was a genius and nothing more." Kakashi looked off, towards the shelves behind the bar counter, all equipped with a variety of alcoholic beverages. The jounin could feel an unwavering stare burning into the side of his face but knew that, if he ignored it long enough, it would go away. It did. The two fell into silence, one as stiff and as humid as the air seeping through Kakashi's mask.  
"So…How much trouble do you think you're in?"  
Kakashi frowned. "I need another drink."

Somewhere on the outskirts of Konoha, where the leaf village's maximum security prison stood proudly on a mountain of land, stood a fairly young man huddled in a cloak. The evening wind was cold and uninviting, speaking of another storm that was sure to come. He stared at the setting sun, before returning to the interior of the institution.  
In fact, the building only served to usher in those feelings and emotions he learned to suppress long ago. Memories, trials and hardships, he would rather not think about...everything came back, like a floodgate in his mind had been released. As he walked through the dark corridors, he wondered if a jutsu had been cast to force prisoners to relive the adversity in their lives. If that was the case, then Iruka couldn't think of a more terrible kind of torture.  
"Go that way," pointed a guard.  
"Thank you," Iruka gave a polite nod.  
He followed the directions given to him by the guards on duty, passing by other maximum security cells that were said to house some of Konoha's most dangerous and insane prisoners. Yet he didn't hear the violent yells or crazed screams of hardened criminals. In this ward there dwelled only broken men, torn from society and justly punished for their crimes. Iruka quickly shrugged away that last thought but knew he couldn't compromise his beliefs just because a person he cared about, someone he once thought to be a great and promising student, was locked away among other dangerous men.  
"Just over there," ushered another guard, and Iruka thanked him accordingly. He turned another corner, until all that was left was one cell situated at the end of the corridor. It was isolated from the rest.  
He turned back towards the one guard on watch, looking at the other man expectantly. "I forgot," the guard wheezed, "You're the one who requested a stool, am I right?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Suddenly this guy's the most popular prisoner in this joint. His visitors love 'em so much that they can't stand parting from him. You're just like that boy," the guard scoffed, turning back to hand Iruka a stool.  
"Well, thank you for tolerating the added trouble," Iruka replied, frowning.  
The guard looked him up and down and sighed, "I'll be at the front of the chamber, watching the rest of these low-lives. Call me, when you're ready to leave." Iruka thanked him once more, like a mindless mantra. This prison was taking a toll on his spirit. He could understand if even the most dangerous prisoner was now a shriveled shell of a man, cowering in the corner of his cell.  
Setting the stool on the dirt floor, he could only hope that, for this particular prisoner, that wasn't the case. He peered between the thick iron bars and searched for the younger man housed somewhere in that dark void of space.  
"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing throughout the chamber.  
The lighting of the ward was the shabbiest Iruka had ever seen. The one time he visited Mizuki, Iruka was surrounded by yelling criminals, brutal guards, and intolerable orange lighting. This ward, however, spoke of quiet agony and even quieter prisoners. Perhaps good lighting was the least of their worries. It didn't take Iruka long to find the prisoner he was here for, laying on a small, cheap cot. Months ago saw this pained soul returning to Konoha and, instead of tending to his silent pleas for help, the Elders quickly decreed that he be sent here.  
"Please, say something...Sasuke," Iruka whispered but, if Sasuke was anything like the student he once knew, a response would be difficult to come by. Iruka glanced briefly over his shoulder, to ensure that the two of them were alone, before pulling a small rucksack from beneath his cloak. "I know it's been some time," Iruka went on to say, desperately needing to fill the silence. "…I should have visited sooner, but I honestly didn't think I'd have anything to say to you. And knowing you, I doubt you would want to hear the mindless chatter of a former sensei, anyway," Iruka said jokingly, but his smile quickly faltered. The younger man's unresponsiveness reminded the chunin of where he was and why. What small amount of spirit left in him quickly disappeared, lost somewhere in the darkness of Sasuke's cell. "Naruto says you've stopped eating, Sasuke. Not that he really knows," Iruka shook his head, "since you don't talk to him. When he visits, you don't talk to him," Iruka reiterated, realizing the sadness in those words. "He says he can tell that you haven't eaten, just by looking at you, and he wanted to see if, maybe, I could do some good."  
No response, much to Iruka's dismay. He didn't know what usefulness he could be, but he had to try. Naruto rarely came to him for help, always wanting to look independent and strong, but this…this was something entirely different. Naruto was not used to these kinds of situations, Iruka knew, and it was a credit to his character to come here knowing that even after months of visiting Sasuke, sitting where Iruka now sat, his former team mate was less and less likely to reciprocate his company. Eventually, Sasuke would die.  
Iruka stopped his train of thoughts, gripping tightly at the rucksack in his hand.  
"Naruto suspects that the reason you're not eating may be due to the guards not feeding you, so I-I brought you a care package," Iruka extended the bag into the air, hoping beyond belief that Sasuke would suddenly leap out and take it from him. When he didn't, Iruka continued to talk but with a heavier heart. "It's just some ration bars a-and small foods...things that wouldn't perish. I brought some canteens, as well. It's not much, but I couldn't risk it being untrue, what Naruto had told me, so—"  
"I should have known that dobe would resort to asking for your help." Iruka froze, watching Sasuke's haggard movements. Slowly, the dark haired prisoner pushed off against his cot and turned, accosting Iruka with a tired, and even darker, stare. He resettled himself, sitting with his legs crossed together and his arms stretched behind him. Even in the dark, Iruka could see that the Sasuke from just a few months ago had changed drastically for the worse. His eyes were sunken in, like endless obsidian pools. His hair fell into clumps, framing his sharp features. Sasuke's skin glowed paler than the moon, appearing to stretch over what little fat he possessed.  
Still, despite the imperfections of prison life, Sasuke somehow managed to retain the demeanor of a dignified Uchiha.  
"I should have known," Sasuke repeated with a low chuckle, his usual baritone voice hoarse from lack of use. "I should have known that ignoring that idiot wouldn't get him to leave me alone. Instead, he sends in back-up."  
The bag in Iruka's hand fell to the ground. He shot forward, gripping the metal bars and feeling the vibrations of a very potent jutsu. It was meant to drain the prisoners of their chakra, Iruka knew. Their life force. The stronger the prisoner, the stronger the depletion. The drain was taking hold of what strength he had left, but Iruka couldn't imagine the agony Sasuke, a high level Shinobi, was going through.  
"I would advise you to get away from the bars. I'd say they do their job, exceedingly well." Iruka quickly did as he was told and slumped back against the stool. He was short of breath and weaker than ever before. He heard movement but felt too weak to even lift his head. Every nerve in his body clenched in agony, and the chunin thought the slightest movement would be his last. His lungs cried for oxygen, but the air was thick, too thick to breathe, and the pressure of gravity threatened to crush his very soul. Sitting there, in that prison, Iruka thought he was going to die.  
Then everything stopped. Iruka leaned forward, sucking in all the oxygen his body so desperately craved.  
"Imagine feeling like pain and suffering is the only thing you've ever known. That it is inevitable, every single day, and yet never being showed the mercy of death. Tch… and that idiot expects me to want to waste what energy I have talking to him."  
"Sasuke?" Iruka glanced up to see Uchiha Sasuke sitting on the edge of his cot, staring back at him.  
"Iruka-sensei," Sasuke nodded. His face, a shadow of its former youth, remained void of all emotion. "Long time no see."


	2. Chapters 7-12

Chapter Seven  
The Rokudaime sat at the end of long table, his one visible eye perusing his environment. If the jounin had ever seen a deathtrap...Morino Ibiki's interrogation rooms was just that. He felt the heat of the torch flames reaching out, licking at his exposed skin, and heard the rustle of worn shackles hanging lifelessly— victims to their own weight in bolted stainless steel. Kakashi hummed because, when he looked closer, he could easily spot the specs of dry blood caking every spear, sword, kunai, and chain that was mounted on the chamber walls, like trophies of an unspoken war.  
"Well...I had to see it for myself."  
Kakashi tilted his head to the side, so to see beyond the book resting upon his palm and kneecap. There, in all his horrifying glory, stood Ibiki with a heavy handed grip on the double-plated chamber door. "Ibiki-san," Kakashi greeted lightly, "I didn't hear you come in. It speaks volumes towards your prowess in silent ambushes." The taller, larger, and broodier man stepped forward, to where Kakashi could see the faint shadows of Ibiki's facial scar tissue in the dim torchlight. Those markings alone spoke volumes of what the man was capable of and what sacrifices he made, servicing his village.  
"Too engrossed in your reading, I presume," Ibiki sighed, already knowing the answer to that question. The commanding officer of ANBU's Torture and Interrogation Force caught sight of the Hokage with his legs crossed, his feet hanging on the edge of his torture board, and one eye fixed on an overturned hand and knew his renowned junior was reading a book from his equally notorious novel collection. "It doesn't take keen observation to know when Hatake Kakashi has gotten carried away by one of Jiraiya-sama's novels."  
"No?"  
"No," Ibiki shook his head, as the most sinister of smiles graced his scarred features. "It only takes a long history of knowledge to know that Hatake Kakashi is rarely seen anywhere without a questionable piece of literature attached to his person."  
"Like you haven't read it, Ibiki-san," Kakashi replied, gazing idly at the page pressed between his thumb and forefinger.  
"True but, unlike you, I have the decency to fulfill my literary appetite within the confines of my home."  
"I thought this was your home."  
"Plan to desecrate the sanctity of my table for much longer?"  
"I don't know what you mean," Kakashi replied coolly but, nevertheless, lowered his legs from the table. "I just felt the need to stretch my legs... I'm quite certain that this table has seen quite a bit of stretching, in its days." The jounin pushed away from his seat, a seat meant for an interrogator. The rest of the floor, built on cold stone, stood bare. Kakashi imagined himself flanked by two other tokubetsu jounin, sitting in that pleasantly cushioned armchair while presiding over the extraction methods commonly used among the Fire Country's most notable Shinobi village. That would make him Ibiki, reigning down on enemies with the iron fist of the leaf; intimidating men and women who would wish nothing but ill-will towards their villagers. "This time, at least, the noise level is kept to a minimum."  
"Good to see you've suffered through not being at your inauguration ceremony well," Ibiki clipped, meeting the other man halfway across that barren stone. With swiftness uncommon to the average jounin, Ibiki carried his bulky girth mere inches before his new Hokage. He looked the slighter man up and down. "I never expected to see you donning the garbs of a Hokage, Hatake Kakashi."  
"Your disbelief is manifested in what context, Morino Ibiki? Is it that I'm Hokage or that I look like one that disturbs you?" Kakashi asked in a voice equaled to Ibiki's monotone inquiry. The two elite stared each other down, until there was nothing to observe but the soles of their Shinobi-guard sandals. Kakashi's eye gazed coolly from the dark grey of Ibiki's uniform, to his solid stare and the bandana headband he wore to cover the many scorched puncture wounds that decorated his skull.  
Ibiki grinned once more; a small curl of the lips at the corner of his scarred mouth. "This is going to be amusing. I can tell," he muttered, lifting an unwavering limb into the air. Kakashi reached up and gripped Ibiki's hand, expecting to receive the firm, sturdy shake that would match the commanding officer's strong characteristics. He was not disappointed.  
"Good to see you, Ibiki-san."  
"Likewise, Kakashi-sama." A jolt, Kakashi thought, before the end of another formal greeting. The title 'Sama' was as familiar to Ibiki's speech as it was, still resiliently, foreign to Kakashi's ears. Despite the unease felt from hearing another acquaintance address him with the higher title, the silver haired jounin kept his nonchalant poise. "Though, I can't imagine why you're in here, when my offices are down the hall."  
"I went out of my way to come here and sit among your museum of torture tactics," Kakashi answered, as if it was the most obvious explanation. "Why wait in an office, when I can entertain myself with the many ways you use to extract information."  
"And people call me sadistic," the darker man uttered, looking Kakashi over once more. "Follow me." Ibiki turned and walked away, accompanied by the heavy billow of his black overcoat and an undisturbed Hokage. Kakashi followed suit, pocketing his book as the chamber door bolted close. "More surprising than that you are, indeed, the new leader of Konohagakure, is your punctual arrival, coupled by the acceptance you show by upholding the formal wear of a Hokage. Furthermore, when a few of my officers clarified that it was you who, willingly, entered this department by way of the front entrance and not an open window, I demanded they retrace your movements. They examined the security cameras installed by Mitarashi-san's unit, and yet they were unable to detect any foul play: no doppelgangers, clones, illusions, or any other disguises that would suggest someone with ill-intent had posed as the Hokage to gain access into the facilities."  
"I arrive on time, and you have your men secure the integrity of my person."  
"I couldn't risk the alternative, Kakashi-sama. Consistency in habits, however maladjusted, is very serious business in this department. But I don't have to tell you that." Kakashi's eye drooped and stared beyond the eerie grin on Ibiki's face, focusing on the conference room set out before them. "After you," Ibiki insisted, shutting the door behind them.  
In this room sat another long table but one meant for discussion— not for the creativity of a madman.  
"Please have a seat, Kakashi-sama. We have much to discuss." Kakashi chose a seat from the dozen distributed about the hardwood table. For him, the airier, brightly, lit room and its remarkableness paled in comparison to an interrogation chamber. The pale green walls, functional furniture, and potted foliage Kakashi could do without. In contrast, there was something peculiar and dark, thought-releasing and provocative about an interrogation chamber, so no matter how secluded he was, Kakashi never once felt completely alone. The walls, decorated as they were, spoke out to him, the warrior that he was. Every detail, from the spear to the sword, had a gory and unpleasant tale to tell, and there was no story in that chamber that was too dull to go unheard.  
"Mm...I accept blame for the confusion I've caused, from my unfitting behavior, but entering through a window was out the question," Kakashi explained, staring at the two large windows situated on the other side of the table. An inactive morning stared back at him, equipped with empty department grounds, blue shadows, dewy patches of grass, and misty skies. "The interrogation rooms have no windows."  
"Despite the burden of inconvenience, I should hope you decide it'd be kept that way. We wouldn't want to traumatize any passerby, now would we?" Ibiki chuckled, something frightening and gut-wrenching to the tokubetsu jounin's criminal subjects, his men, and many others unlucky enough to cross his path...but Kakashi found the sound unusually pleasant. Ibiki settled for a seat across from him, sitting with his hands clasped above the table. "Now that we are here, and I have been guaranteed that you are not a clone, there are a few matters of national interests that I must discuss with you."  
"Oh?" Kakashi hummed, mentally amusing himself with what business Ibiki needed to discuss. Now that his duties as Hokage had been forced upon him, permanently solidified in his mind, Kakashi was willing to explore all the possible subject matters to be broached between a chief and his commanding interrogation officer. None of them were light, and Kakashi made no illusions to the seriousness of this meeting. He thought bitterly that had Iruka not insisted upon his early arrival, he would have done so, regardless. As he knew was the case with his predecessors, a meeting with Morino Ibiki usually meant the difference between life and death.  
There was a knock at the door.  
"Come in," Ibiki grouched out boisterously. In bustled a rather restless looking interrogation officer, holding a clipboard with an indistinguishable amount of paper attached to it. "What it is it?" Ibiki asked, his urgent tone reacting to the urgency in the nameless Shinobi's eyes.  
The officer was delayed, however, when he realized the Rokudaime for who he was, addressing him with an unreadable stare. "Oh, Hokage-sama...!" The young, dark haired man bowed. "Good morning, Hokage-sama," he greeted, quickly modifying his initial response.  
"Mori-san...!" The Shinobi named Mori jumped, startled by his boss's voice. "State your purpose. As you can see, we are in a meeting."  
"My apologies, sir," Mori-san bowed once more, "but the hour is up. What is to be done with Subject #2B384?"  
"Have them escorted back to their cell. We'll try again, later." Mori left quickly, having received his orders, and Kakashi looked back towards Ibiki, anticipating his own cue to leave. "I would think that little interruption was relevant to what needs to be discussed this morning."  
"I'm all ears," Kakashi sighed. "What decisions must I make?"  
"Bear with me, Kakashi," Ibiki urged. "Like you, I feel you are incompatible with the makings of a Hokage but for reasons that are, perhaps, less self-pitying than your own."  
"Let it never be said that you are a man lesser advanced in the art of keen observation."  
"I'm a man of good judgment, a man of honor and discipline, and I am a keen observer. You are roughly two years my junior, yet I feel we are years apart, Kakashi-sama. I respect you, of course, regardless of where we stand in rank, but," Ibiki paused, watching Kakashi for some kind of reaction. Much like himself, the newly appointed Hokage had an instinctual resolve for passivity. "When the Elders placed you before the village and you disappeared... My understanding was that, somewhere down the line, the same man who would risk turning a solemn ceremony into a joke would falter when forced to make a choice between what is right and what is necessary; what they feel, and what is beneficial for the village."  
"...I understand," Kakashi replied, maintaining a calm veneer.  
"You do..." Ibiki could not disguise the hint of skepticism in his voice, Kakashi noted, as he too was quite the keen observer.  
He was also the Hokage and a conflicted one, at that. Kakashi should have known Ibiki would see beyond the surface of meaningless appearances and mindless paperwork. Ibiki saw blood, just as he himself saw blood. More than the responsibilities of a Hokage, as Iruka saw, which was a lot closer to the truth than Kakashi was even willing to go. He knew the thoughts of a naïve Academy sensei to be something as bright and as airy as the conference room surrounding him. However, Ibiki's words held much more weight, like the shackles on his real walls.  
"Why did you request this meeting." It was more of a demand than a question and less of a demand than more of a diversion. Kakashi had no intention of meeting Ibiki to be lectured on the merits of his capabilities. "Tell me, Ibiki-san, what it is you would like to discuss."  
"Yes, we should move on," Ibiki agreed, with measured pace. Kakashi's hard stare remained bold and steady, knowing the other man wouldn't waste a second reading him for any signs of weakness. Detecting no trace of doubt, Ibiki gladly continue. "As you are well aware, Kakashi-sama, the end of the Fourth Great Shinobi War has seen the Hidden Leaf village victorious against our enemies. Still, the village is victimized by the destruction of war and open, vulnerable, to possible attack."  
"I'm sure we're aware of those who pose a threat to Konoha," Kakashi chimed in, well within his realm of expertise. "If so I demand that they are placed in custody, until further notice."  
"We've done so with those we've caught. Like Subject #2B384...she was an unwilling participant of Madara's army— one of many, as you know, who were placed under a powerful jutsu capable of controlling the human mind and an endless supply of chakra." Ibiki leaned forward, giving sight to the sculpted muscle trapped beneath his uniform and overcoat. His eyes, a pitch black, considered Kakashi in contemplation. "This is the time for further notice, Kakashi-sama. I know, it's a scandalous affair to inherit the situation from Tsunade-sama, but we must have a decision on what to do with these insurgents."  
"What information have they given us so far?" Kakashi asked calmly, not at all troubled knowing that the burdens of Tsunade-sama's term had been passed down to him. It was not an uncommon occurrence but a condition Kakashi only had to accept. Not agree with or understand.  
Ibiki shook his head. "They've informed us of nothing, sir. The mind control they've undergone could have taken months to achieve but, at this stage of permanence, they truly believe in their loyalty to Madara; to his cause, and have survived, solely, to pursue his plans. Some are even under the delusion that he is still alive."  
"I see."  
"Furthermore, they refuse to give any information on the whereabouts of Yakushi Kabuto." Kakashi's eye narrowed in on that name, as he had had more than his share of run-ins with Orochimaru's former medic and right-hand man. His involvement in the war was something unexpected and trying but, during the final battle, Kakashi managed to defeat some few regenerated corpses of Kabuto's Edo Tensei. Even while heavily scathed, Kabuto still managed to survive and escape. Kakashi knew that if there was anyone who posed a threat to Konoha that still lived, Kabuto was their highest concern.  
"How long have they been in our custody?"  
"We've held them, roughly, for ten weeks and three days."  
"What's the general status of your interrogation unit?"  
"They haven't wasted a second, trying to extract information: hideouts, plans, and strengths that are incorporated into the deepest crevices of their mind. I, of course, preside over the interrogation processes, regularly. I've put them through hell and back again. You can be sure of that."  
"Duly noted. I would expect nothing less of you, Ibiki-san."  
"Why thank you, Kakashi-sama," Ibiki nodded, as it was pleasing to hear his efforts being praised. "However, I must admit to some defeat, despite my unit's greatest efforts. We've still gained no intel and, by trying to reverse the strong mind control they're under, we may induce unnecessary damage...permanent damage, even death."  
"How many are there?"  
"We have forty of their numbers— all held in Konoha's prison facilities. How many are out there, still plotting, is a number I cannot deduce in good faith. The subjects we do have claim their numbers are large, but they never say more than some arbitrary amount," Ibiki frowned, his dark and brooding expression of discontent. The leather of his gloves squeaked under the constriction of his tightening grip. "I should say we were unlucky and managed to capture the group of mindless followers hell-bent on pleasing their leader."  
"Then we'll just have to double our efforts and capture all of them, next time," Kakashi urged, his voice emitting in a dangerously low murmur.  
"Of course, Kakashi-sama," Ibiki agreed, "but housing old meat, for the sake of controlling their numbers, can only rotten our core supply. Already, our department is hearing instigations of prison riots. Madara's followers have threatened to revolt and may incite others to follow suit." Ibiki stared at Kakashi carefully...watchfully. "I ask you, as the Hokage, to issue the appropriate measures that are to be taken next."  
Silence.  
"...Eliminate them."  
"Sir?" Ibiki sat upright, firmly seated.  
Kakashi stood. "If they won't disclose the whereabouts of their numbers, the whereabouts of possible allies, or any additional information by now, then they never will."  
"You are absolutely right, Kakashi-sama." Ibiki watched the other man turn away, pleased by the Hokage's verdict. In Kakashi's position, he would have made a decision that mirrored elimination. True, death could be brought upon his subjects in an array of formidable ways. To eliminate, however, was an absolute term— a term that left little room for idle time or torture tactics; in essence, a chance for reversal.  
Ibiki saw no hesitance in the Rokudaime.  
"I expect the order to be carried out by the end of the day."  
"Of course...we'll have their cells emptied for the next threat we come into contact with," the commanding officer guaranteed, rising from his own seat. Already across the room, Kakashi found that he cared very little for Ibiki's reassurance. "I must say, I didn't foresee this kind of response from you, Hatake Kakashi."  
Kakashi froze, with the palm of his hand resting on the brass door handle. His glare burned into the surface of the door, while he tried amusing his mind with the patterns embroidered into the dark wood but failing exponentially. "What did you expect from me, Ibiki-san? Hesitation?"  
"There is another matter that I would like to discuss with you; or, should I say, another captive?"  
"Enlighten me."  
"Subject #1U301: your former student, Uchiha Sasuke."  
"...I have nothing to say, on that matter."  
"But you must," Ibiki insisted, accepting that the other man was unwilling to face him. He had to wonder what defeat, what uncertainty or hopelessness, had befallen Kakashi, at the mention of his former student. It was not something the larger man desired to see but more of something he expected in Kakashi. If Ibiki had once pegged the jounin properly, as he often judged others flawlessly, then Hatake Kakashi was still as loyal to those he cared for as he was to all of Konoha. "Uchiha Sasuke's execution date is drawing near. Do you not feel obligated to propose a compromise, before a decision some might consider drastic measures?"  
"You are annoying me, Ibiki." Kakashi turned, which greatly satisfied the other man. He wanted another opportunity to read Kakashi, as easily as the man read the pages of his romance novels. But to Ibiki's dismay and surprise, the younger jounin left little to discern. Kakashi could have just as well worn his ANBU mask with such a daunting and expressionless gaze. "It was my understanding, Ibiki-san, that, as the attending executioner, you consider the Uchiha's guilt accounted for. From what I've observed, your interest in what I feel about the matter has little to do with where I stand and more to do with what compromises I am willing to make."  
"I've read the records, and I stood on that battlefield. I witnessed the extent of the opposing force's destruction—the destruction that he caused, and it would have been irresponsible of me to not see the struggle within you, Kakashi, when you fought against him," Ibiki growled, growing frustrated with his superior. "Kakashi-sama, you have every right to want save your former student from death, just as I have every right to anticipate or question your decisions, especially ones jeopardized by an error in judgment."  
"Mm... Then feel relieved, commander. Uchiha Sasuke's fate has been decided, and far be it from me to challenge the judgment of the Elders," Kakashi sighed, his hand against the door handle once more. "What takes place will take place, as my feelings are irrelevant."  
"Then I am relieved," Ibiki breathed, again satisfied with the provided response.  
"You have my orders."  
"Indeed, Kakashi-sama," Ibiki nodded slowly.  
"Then I'll take my leave now."  
"I insist you hear me out, before you go," Ibiki requested, aware of Kakashi's need to flee from the room. The various reasons as to why amused the tokubetsu jounin, yet his focused returned to the steely grey stare of Kakashi's one visible eye. "You know you never fail to surprise me, Hatake Kakashi."  
"No?" Kakashi's tone was curt.  
"No," Ibiki echoed, wearing a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "It is not common knowledge but, as a much younger Shinobi, I was absolutely taken by your late father's career."  
"You don't say," Kakashi droned, his half-lidded gaze leveled.  
"The White Fang of Konoha was more than just a legend, but a role model for a promising young ninja like me. He was grand, in his prime, and unmatched in strength. Now that I am much older and wiser, I see that his only flaw was compassion."  
"Compassion."  
Ibiki nodded, "His inability to do all that was necessary to bring about the success of his team and, ultimately, all of Konoha. The Shinobi archives address him as a contradiction and, having read through the archives, I can say that your father was, indeed, an indecisive genius. His more benevolent nature was at constant battle with the obligations required in every Shinobi...the events, leading up to his death, give prime examples to this analysis."  
"Does this have a point, Ibiki-san."  
"Yes," Ibiki voiced knowingly, "only to express my gratitude, knowing that this undesirable trait was not passed on to his son." Ibiki stepped forward, reaching up to clasp Kakashi's shoulder with a firm grip. "I assure you, my faith in you is unwavering, but not even the Rokudaime is above judgment."  
"That is a fact that is growing more and more apparent, Ibiki-san," the younger jounin hummed, eyeing his companion wearily. "Can we agree that the meeting is over?" he asked, his left hand still gripping the door handle; slowly nudging the contraption with a sense of urgency.  
"Of course, Kakashi-sama," Ibiki shook his head again, reluctantly entertained by Kakashi's inability to endure meetings. It was not something Ibiki would overlook: the fact that whenever a meeting of the highest importance took place, Hatake Kakashi was never among their numbers. Regardless, he gave the Hokage's shoulder a few apologetic pats. "I'll have the recorded transcript of this meeting sent to your office by the end of today..."  
"No, don't send it there," Kakashi said quickly, much too quickly for Ibiki to disregard. "I'll pick up, at a later time. Make sure your officers are informed. We wouldn't want to confuse them again. Would we?" A lazy-eyed jounin opened the door, pleasantly staring back at the man who cleared another three inches over him. "Mm…after you. I insist."  
"Thank you, Kakashi-sama."  
Ibiki walked ahead and Kakashi followed suit. For a few moments, the two shared the same halls, passing other miscellaneous chambers and equally nameless tokubetsu jounin. It almost felt as though the meeting had not taken place at all, and Kakashi was eager to rid himself of the memory. He stared at Ibiki's back, for the duration of their procession, decidedly fascinated with images of what the commanding officer would look like with hair.  
"Kakashi-sama."  
"Ibiki-san."  
A final nod was shared before the two went their separate ways. Kakashi continued his path towards the building's front entrance, while Ibiki detoured down another area of the department. It was morning, still, and Kakashi was certain that Morino Ibiki had a full day's work to attend to. By the time he was out the door and pass the high fence that surrounded the interrogation department, the Icha Icha book in his back pocket had magically reappeared in his hand. He stared at its pages, seeing very little but dark lines and the unforgivable glare of daylight.  
Kakashi blinked, blinked, and blinked again. The words ran across the pages, still as indecipherable as the time before he blinked.  
"Hokage-sama!"  
Kakashi looked up with muted interest, watching as two Shinobi approached him: one with a mane of hair that defied gravity, as it extended like a crown of leaves, while the other wore his hair down and capped beneath a bandana hiate-ate. The former, with a bandage wrapped over his nose, stepped forward. The latter, with a corner of his face hidden beneath unchecked bangs, stood closely behind. Kakashi quickly recognized them as the two Shinobi whose duty it was to monitor the comings and goings at the village gate.  
"Kotetsu-san and Izumo-san, am I right?"  
"Don't tell me you don't even remember our names?" The one Kakashi knew to be Kotetsu scoffed.  
"For God's sake, Kotetsu, we're speaking to the Hokage. I know you don't care much about duty, but at least show some respect," Izumo murmured, rolling his eyes.  
"Yeah, make me look like the bad guy in front of the Rokudaime. Should I go into detail about how you can't even stay up, during night shifts?"  
"Is there something I can do for the two of you?" Kakashi interrupted, before the argument could escalate. Watching them hiss words at one another would have been distractingly entertaining, but seeing others argue would only remind Kakashi of yesterday…his own quarrel, equipped with a fairly aggressive Iruka.  
"Alright, yeesh," Kotetsu growled, when Izumo pushed him forward. He was reluctant but did not resist. The chunin stared at Kakashi, wearing a widespread smirk beneath his bandaged nose. "We were Tsunade-sama's errand boys."  
"Kotetsu…"  
"My bad," Kotetsu shrugged apologetically, considerate of his friend's stern protest. "Let me correct that statement. We were Tsunade-sama'sgophers—"  
"You know what? Move…" Izumo shoved Kotetsu to the side and stood in his place. "Hokage-sama," he began, "the Godaime often enlisted our services, to provide assistance with any business she herself could not complete. Though we mourn her death, we feel obligated—"  
"You feel obligated," Kotetsu chimed in.  
"We feel obligated," Izumo continued, "to offer our services in the same manner." He stared to the side, glaring at the other chunin.  
With one last long blink, Kakashi closed his book. "Good," he said. "As it turns out, your assistance can be of some use. I doubt anything will amount to the projects Tsunade-sama set out for you two, but that's pending."  
"Well, if you promise a light workload," Kotetsu thought out loud, "then you have my services, Hokage-sama."  
"You have my services as well, Hokage-sama." Izumo and Kotetsu bowed.  
"Okay," Kakashi sighed, "but it isn't me you'll be assisting." He ignored their identical stares of confusion, his thoughts honing in on another easily flustered chunin.  
"Hokage-sama, I don't understand," Izumo said.  
"Iruka-sensei is my personal assistant. He could use your help."  
"Wait. Did you just say Iruka, as in, Umino Iruka?" Kotetsu frowned, gawking at the Rokudaime. Like Kotetsu, Izumo appeared equally puzzled, much to Kakashi's curiosity. "Does Iruka know?"  
"Why wouldn't Iruka know?" Izumo chastised the other man.  
"Nee, now I remember," Kakashi said dryly, looking between the two. "Your acquaintances of Iruka. He's mentioned the two of you before…" Kakashi tapped the tip of his chin. Kotetsu and Izumo, of course...Iruka called them his friends, during some conversation or another— Kakashi couldn't keep track of every discussion he shared with the chunin sensei, as they covered a span of months; there, inside an apartment Kakashi was no longer permitted to enter.  
"I can't believe he would agree to be your assistant," Kotetsu breathed, staring disbelievingly at Izumo. "He did agree, right?" He asked, accosting Kakashi.  
"I admit, I'm growing curious as to why this is shocking," Kakashi frowned.  
"No reason," Kotetsu shrugged, regrouping with his chunin companion.  
"Report to Iruka-sensei, immediately, and assist him in any way you can. I'm not Tsunade-sama, but my ninken tells me I've given Iruka-sensei a heavy workload, compounded with his shift duties and his role as an Academy instructor. So I want the two of you to relieve any undue strain."  
Izumo stared at his Hokage blankly. "Your…ninken?"  
"Go."  
"Yes, Hokage-sama!" Izumo bowed before hand-signing into a puff of smoke. Kakashi and Kotetsu watched the chunin disappear, staring at where Izumo once stood.  
"Well, he's way too eager today," Kotetsu groused, yawning. "We were just heading out towards our first shift, when we ran into you. So he thought it'd be a perfect opportunity to clear up this whole assisting the Hokagebusiness. Personally, I could have gone without saying anything. But since it's Iruka…" Kotetsu paused, staring thoughtfully at the jounin. "Hokage-sama, I will assist Iruka-sensei to the fullest of my capabilities."  
"I think Iruka-sensei would appreciate that," Kakashi replied, eyeing the darker skinned man. He took note of Kotetsu and had to wonder if this was actually an acquaintance of Iruka's. His sudden intrigue of the man was also unusual, but the way Kotetsu seemed unfazed by his status fascinated Kakashi.  
"I think I'll walk to the Academy," Kotetsu shrugged, eyeing Izumo's empty spot with ill ease. "Hokage-sama," he nodded, burying his hands inside his pant pockets.  
"Kotetsu-san," Kakashi replied, examining one of Konoha's gatekeepers in a whole new light. He had to remind himself that this was an acquaintance of Iruka's, and any acquaintance of Iruka's surely wasn't worth the time of day. But he thought Iruka's friends would be dull pen-pushers, much like the Academy sensei—Izumo seemed to fit that profile. Kotetsu, however...he was a man of Kakashi's ilk: casual and carefree. What was he doing, hanging around Shinobi like Iruka?  
Iruka, with his do-good attitude. His punctuality. His ethical codes. With his formidable temper. His abidance to social rules. The way the chunin coddled his students and even managed to baby his ninken in the same fashion. The way Iruka addressed others formally, as though afraid to insult anyone—not that Kakashi recalled a time when Iruka had had a bad thing to say about anyone that wasn't true. The way Iruka mourned for those he cared about. Like Tsunade-sama. He either bottled it up or lashed out at unsuspecting bystanders, like innocent jounin. Iruka's pleasantries and constant provisions didn't make him a world renowned Shinobi, like Kakashi. He was a school teacher, not an elite genius killer who, had long ago, drowned in the blood of his enemies.  
Iruka wasn't like men like Kakashi. The chunin would never know what it felt like to end the lives of forty people, with his hands or with his words. Iruka was flawed.  
Iruka had compassion.  
Kakashi suddenly didn't know what to do with his self. When he realized the book in his hand served him better as a paperweight, he returned it to his back pocket. He looked around, noticing that nothing about his surroundings had changed within the last few minutes. The sky was still a murky blue, riddled with noncommittal clouds. Every now and then, the sun would peak through, as if to tease Konoha with the promise of a sunny day. The large shadows sitting under their appropriate buildings remained a cold shade of blue. The dirt roads were still riddled with dewy patches of green but remained, otherwise, unoccupied.  
Kakashi was alone.  
Chapter Eight  
"Dismissed!" He heard a stern sensei voice declare, and the classroom door flew open. Kakashi saw clear across the room before his gaze fell upon a horde of children standing at his feet. They were all embellished with ecstatic smiles. Their relieved, wide-eyed stares made it effortless to notice that one signature scowl missing amongst their numbers.  
"It's the Hokage-sama!" Tsuki gasped excitedly, much to Kakashi's chagrin.  
He should have known that, from the lack of rambunctious children playing on the training fields, Iruka's class was being held in captivity. Their deprived stares, desperately trying to smile under the weight of defeat, gave evidence to the torture Iruka had put them through. Starving spirits, Kakashi thought. Having experienced Iruka's students firsthand, he wouldn't rule out that the class might have behaved in a way that would bring on the full force of Iruka's punishment: long lectures, tedious tasks, yelling, and more lectures. Yet Kakashi couldn't suppress the suspicion that the students suffered needlessly; because of his own behavior.  
"Hello." He smiled, running a tentative hand through his unruly hair.  
Kakashi knew what it felt like to be the recipient of such unbalanced vengeance. He recalled days spent rebuilding Konoha, accompanied by a reconstruction team, with Yamato and Iruka by his side. The team provided a larger workforce, Yamato provided wood, and Iruka supplied the incentive to keep working: not having to answer to Iruka for slacking off. It was Tsunade-sama's idea to place Iruka there, like her own personal attack dog.  
"You."  
"Bye Hokage-sama," Tsuki bolted, racing past Kakashi. The rest of the students quickly followed after him, running down the deserted hallway like a restless mass of liberated children. Kakashi watched them flee, so to save his self from confronting the surge of animosity pulsing through the room. He felt it, prickling the short silver strands at the nape of his neck. Kakashi remained resilient enough, until the very last pair of brat-sized sandals disappeared around a corner. He couldn't avoid the fire for much longer, the one consuming the back of his robes. Before he could be fully engulfed from behind, Kakashi turned, his eye smiling.  
"Good afternoon, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi greeted cheerfully, as cheerfully as he could; until he felt the strain against his mask. There, behind his fiery throne, stood Iruka with his arms crossed against his chest. His eyes were fixed on Kakashi: stern and unblinking, coupled with a glare where the flames burned within. The jounin thought it quite an eerie sight to see. Nevertheless, he glanced from the chunin to beyond, examining the rest of the room. After all, walking into a hostile situation without vigilant observation and cautioned steps spelled suicide.  
The jounin peered in, casually searching for any calculated traps before moseying through that threshold. The class looked more intact than the day before, when the desks and chairs were toppled over. They now stood upright and on their appropriate platform. Student work that Kakashi previously had paid little mind to still decorated the classroom, and the floor remained a quickly fading polished wood. Apart from the papers cluttering the chunin's desk and the green vest hanging over Iruka's chair, nothing stood out as exceptional or even hazardous to his person.  
The jounin saw no traps.  
The classroom looked the same as the day before, complete with walls of pale blue and the distinct smell of airborne chalk dust.  
"What are you doing here," Iruka inquired, in a dangerously low tone that was uniquely his own.  
Kakashi stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, mentally cringing. It had been his intention to emerge undetected. Had it not been for Tsuki's outburst, he could have easily walked in and waited to catch Iruka unawares. The chunin would have been too preoccupied with work, muttering to himself about miserable grammar or lazy sentences, like an incomprehensible madman. Iruka's habit of talking to himself while working would have only magnified, in light of his irritated state. And from where Kakashi stood, the chunin was positively irritated.  
"I brought a peace offering," Kakashi replied, revealing the takeaway tote bag held behind his back. He took a few more cautioned steps towards Iruka, presenting the bag like a shield of armor. He would never admit to his deliberately slow steps or the way his arms extended into the air, carrying the package a safe two and a half feet in front of him. Kakashi simply smiled and avoided Iruka's stare, instead opting to study the intricacies of the trajectory lesson drawn out on the chalkboard. "Mm," Kakashi hummed, staring at the example graph. "Make sure to elaborate on the importance of speed, when it comes to 45 and 70 degree angles. Accuracy makes homing onto even the fastest target that much more effective."  
"I'll keep that in mind." Iruka spoke evenly, but his tone remained decisively sharp. No longer preoccupied with the nuisance of smiling, Kakashi stood alert and awaited the moment the younger man would take the bag from him. Iruka turned around, instead, reaching for the eraser at the end of the chalk dispenser. "You can set that on my desk," he snapped over his shoulder, as it shrugged erratically under the movements of his arm. Kakashi watched him purge the chalkboard of all words, lines, and numbers.  
"Certainly." Kakashi set the tote bag on the edge of the desk, taking the insurmountable amount of paperwork into consideration. How fitting would it have been for the jounin to appear, offering the unstable chunin a takeaway meal, only to drench Iruka's desk in whatever that juices just happen to spill from the bag? A sudden wave of weary washed over Kakashi, while his mind overloaded on the vision and the fireball of shouting that was sure to ensue. He quickly pushed aside a pile of work to make room. "Here you go, Iruka-sensei. I thought you might—"  
Iruka turned around, snatching the bag with reflexes that were unknown to Kakashi.  
"Ne…?"  
"What is it?" Iruka asked, peeling back the flimsy material and peering through the opening. Kakashi went to answer but was once again interrupted by Iruka's rather loud inspection. He watched him reach into the bag, probing it for its contents. Chalk-laden hands pulled out two cartons, one circular and one square, and set it on that small clearing of visible desk. Without pause, Iruka reached in again only to pull out a few small napkins and the standard utensils provided with every takeaway meal. Then Iruka stepped back, eyeing both the meal and Kakashi skeptically. "Well, what is it?" he asked again, with his wrists curled against his hips.  
"It's food," Kakashi answered. "I thought that was obvious." This response did not seem to appease Iruka's curiosity, not that Kakashi thought it would. But the obviousness of the situation made it difficult for Kakashi to adhere to Iruka's irrational thought patterns. The chunin was an expert at stating the obvious, and a takeaway meal oozing with swirls of steam and an aroma of freshly cooked noodles– complete with a side of stir-fry eggplant, couldn't get anymore obvious, in Kakashi's opinion.  
Iruka simply dropped the bag on the floor, staring at Kakashi with newly concentrated venom.  
"Of course, it would put your mind at ease to know the contents of this meal. Ne, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi chuckled, reaching back to ruffle the back of his hair. He earned a hard stare from the younger man, before Iruka returned his attention towards the food left on his desk. Kakashi kept stark still, strangely satisfied to see Iruka reach for the circular container first.  
"Ramen?" Iruka inquired, tilting the container in his hand. Kakashi nodded. "What kind?"  
"Miso ramen," Kakashi answered slowly, "with a side of stir-fry eggplant."  
"Why am I not surprised," Iruka sighed, before picking up the other container. The chunin looked it over, inspecting it with distrustful eyes, before that gaze fell upon Kakashi once more. "I take it you'd like some," Iruka muttered, his brow rising, and the Hokage couldn't help but smile.  
"If you insist," Kakashi answered. Iruka scratched his temple, handing the container over to Kakashi. He then reached for his miso-ramen noodles and a pair of packaged chopsticks. "I ordered what I knew you'd like. It just so happens that we like the same kind of stir-fried rice."  
Iruka rolled his eyes and fought desperately to withhold the grin spreading across his face. Kakashi could see it, a slight smile that Iruka commonly expressed. The Academy instructor was prone to elaborate expressions of emotion, never one for subtlety. Iruka was simply too easy to read, even when the rather irate chunin tried very hard to cling to his anger. Kakashi knew he could use this knowledge to his advantage, as he often did. His pseudo anger then turned intrusive. "I thought you didn't like fried foods."  
"I thought you didn't like mixed rice."  
"Really…"  
Kakashi picked up his own pair of chopsticks, reaching out with a cautious hand. The smallest movement could tip Iruka off and, once again, turn him into a hot-tempered force to be reckoned with. "I often make an exception when it comes to rice," He explained, "and I know you don't like mixed rice, but—"  
"There are a lot of things I dislike," Iruka breathed and said nothing more. In fact, his brown-eyed gaze failed to spare Kakashi another glance. He was determined to gawk at his bowl of ramen, until two gaping holes were burned through the bottom, by willpower alone. "Take it," Iruka said, gesturing to the eggplant and stir-fried rice in Kakashi's hand. "Make sure to leave some for me, Kakashi-san."  
"Sure," Kakashi nodded. He watched Iruka intently. "Maa, you need to eat too. I noticed you didn't eat this morning," Kakashi pointed out, "and, when you left, you didn't pack a meal. So I thought about—"  
"You were spying on me, Kakashi-san?" Iruka snapped, but Kakashi possessed too much pride to flinch. Iruka stood, bearing a fraction of his usual ferocity, as it proved difficult for the chunin to appear threatening while holding a styrafoam bowl of ramen. He did grip his waist noticeably tighter and leaned forward, bearing down on Kakashi with a harmless scowl and slouching shoulders...but Kakashi had brought him food. Even an angered Iruka was penetrable– easily distracted by unanticipated situations. Iruka would surely falter and consider Kakashi's attempt at civility. "Well?"  
Kakashi had thought wrong.  
Perhaps perching on a tree branch in the wee hours of the night and watching the chunin enjoy the company of his ninken and doze off in the company of his ninken, did not fall under the olive branch of courtesy.  
"You were, weren't you? That's why you're not answering..." Iruka trailed away, now staring at Kakashi with another stern glare, but Kakashi stayed the course and completely ignored the accusation.  
"Are you going to eat, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi asked. He was growing curious as to why the chunin had yet to touch his meal. Iruka was much like Naruto, in this respect, where the promise of ramen brought on a voracious appetite. However, the swirls of heat and delightful aroma seemed impenetrable to Iruka's senses.  
The chunin simply stared at his bowl and, every now and then, awarded the jounin another hard stare. "...I appreciate the meal, Kakashi-san," and when he said this, Kakashi believed him, "but I'm not hungry at the moment." The chunin snapped the lid back in place. "Though, by all means, do help yourself," he encouraged, placing the bowl and he utensils back down on the table.  
"Nonsense, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi waved away, also setting the carton of stir-fried rice upon the desk. "It would be rude of me to eat in your presence, knowing you haven't eaten yet."  
"How...considerate of you," Iruka muttered, "but I guess it's not rude to spy on someone, either."  
"Don't mention it," Kakashi said dryly, deflecting. He reached out for the tote bag lying on the floor. He put everything back, the food and the chopsticks, well aware of the surprise and astonishment adorning Iruka's features. "I hope that you'll find your appetite before break is over. Like everything, a well-functioning mind is gained with a balanced meal."  
"I perform my duties with utmost proficiency, whether I've eaten or not" Iruka said, leaning against his desk. "In fact, I can't remember the last time I left my students to their own devices, where they were free to throw their peers across the room. I never held a kunai to a student's throat, either."  
The Academy instructor paused, looking him up and down accusingly, but Kakashi disregarded the look. It had been afforded to him so often that his mind made only the smallest mental note. It was dauntingly clear that one of Iruka's students had told the chunin what else had happened in his absence, and yet he still felt obligated to address and defend what Iruka believed was his unconventional teaching skills. Kakashi would have ruined this peaceful occasion, right then and there, had Iruka given him the chance to speak.  
"Then again…" a softer tone broke Kakashi's thoughts. He looked up to find equally softened eyes staring back at him. Even the mischievous glint he understood to be common to Iruka's look had returned to some significant level. "The moment they came back from their break, my students were eager to tell me about their substitute: the amazing Hokage-sama, who taught them how to properly channel their chakra." Iruka slowly pushed away from his desk, watching Kakashi with an unreadable stare. "They said he encouraged them to continue the exercise, even when they thought they were incapable of success. They also want me to apologize on their behalf, as they're sure their constant questioning was getting in the way of all the important readingthe Hokage had to complete."  
"Heh...you heard about that, ne, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi bravely chuckled, unknowingly tugging at the lobe of his right ear. He wasn't nervous, but if those brats had told Iruka about his extensive reading… This could be Kakashi's downfall, because they didn't have to know the book was part of his Icha Icha series for their chunin sensei to know that the book was part of Kakashi's extensive Icha Icha series. "In all fairness, Iruka-sensei, you failed to rule upon my replacement copy. Why should I bring attention to it, when you don't even know it exists?"  
"You don't have it on you now, do you?"  
"No," Kakashi admitted quickly and much to his displeasure.  
"Good," Iruka frowned. "It would have made this "peace offering" a rather pointless venture, Kakashi-san." His cool tone did not serve to relieve Kakashi in the slightest. Iruka continued with a wave of his hand. "Please, allow me to continue telling you about this "cool" and "awesome" substitute sensei my students couldn't wait to tell me about."  
Iruka pushed a few papers aside, repositioning himself on the edge of his desk. "They said his wall-walking demonstration was the best part of the lesson, and that it was most definitely followed by the worst part of the lesson."  
"Oh...?" Kakashi stared at the floor that was most engaging for some unknown reason. "Lessons can't be all fun and games, Iruka-sensei."  
"That substitute has nothing to worry about, Kakashi-san. For a reason I can't begin to understand, they came to class eager to run to their substitute's defense. They explained that what I walked in on was... an unusual situation, where their fellow peer pulled a weapon on their Hokage." Iruka's eyes wandered over his desk.  
An alarming amount of time lapsed before he said much else, and the silence between them grew. Kakashi found he was incapable of returning Iruka's stare, searching the class for something else captivating.  
"…I was convinced."  
Kakashi looked back, his ears perking up; his one visible eye immediately fixed on Iruka. He felt it unnatural to Iruka's nature, to see so little emotion in his face. Where a frown or a prominent scowl would normally grace the chunin's features, Kakashi saw only a blank canvas that was void of all emotion. Having made a closer examination, Kakashi found only exhaustion.  
"I might have been too harsh on this substitute sensei, who responded in the manner instructed by so many great Shinobi before him. I should think," Iruka sighed with resignation, "that I owe this Shinobi my gratitude and an apology on my own behalf. Even if apologizing is a concept he cannot accept."  
Iruka crossed his arms and scoffed.  
"He probably doesn't even deserve one, really."  
"Are you talking about me, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi asked, his one visible eye blinking innocently. It pleased him to see a certain level of irritation on Iruka's features.  
"Addressing you in the third person is keeping me from yelling at you," Iruka explained, dropping his arms and grabbing his hips. "I didn't think my resentment would be capable of telling a Hokage and an insufferable jounin apart."  
"Why thank you, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka sighed. "You are absolutely unbelievable."  
Kakashi pinched his chin, recognizing the familiar term and giving it its due consideration. "Unbelievable…that doesn't mean amazing to you. I'm learning. Evolving."  
"You seem pretty primitive to me, Kakashi-san."  
Iruka returned to his work, plopping down in his rickety desk chair. He rummaged through the pages on his desk, paying the jounin little mind. Kakashi paid little mind to the chunin's work, as the slightest shuffle of paper remained a blur to his senses. Iruka would be a constant reminder of why he had to hire the chunin in the first place: to relieve him of paperwork. Before becoming Hokage, Kakashi was never a Shinobi with a vested interest in mission reports and was never all that fond of what work littered Iruka's apartment. That was why, whenever Iruka asked him to help grade papers, Kakashi arbitrarily marked student work with indecent feedback.  
Kakashi looked down again, to the bag in his hand. He looked towards Iruka, but the younger man was well engrossed, sifting through page after page and repetitively flicking his pen.  
When Iruka accused Kakashi of spying, he had not been wrong. Kakashi spent all night sitting in some nearby tree, peering into the other man's open window. He knew what time the Academy sensei made dinner and when he fed his ninken, when he spent time with his ninken, when he completed his paperwork and when he went to sleep. Then Kakashi waited... That morning, he watched Iruka prepare for his day, head to the Academy, and, in his rush, Iruka forgot to eat breakfast and pack a meal for lunch.  
Would Kakashi outright admit to the nature of his nightly activities? For the sake of peace, no. This confrontation had taken an unusual turn, true, but Kakashi wouldn't say it was a bad one. After all, he was still sanding there, albeit uselessly, watching Iruka drift from one piece of paper to the next. The air of hostility was declining, much to the jounin's curiosity.  
"Mm..." His train of thought was stolen, by a soft murmur this time. The concentration etched into Iruka's brow would have incited interest, but he was already curious of the chunin's sudden passiveness. The daring demeanor and contempt that had once taken the features of a man, who was, otherwise, lukewarm in nature, now lay forgotten; tossed aside, somewhere, and replaced by steadfast concentration. "Mm?" Iruka hummed again, looking up.  
"What is it? Kakashi asked.  
"Oh, it's nothing...just another interesting response. That's all." The chunin shook his head, not trying to hide the smile on his face.  
"I take it that's the –"  
"– the work I assigned after you left. Yes," Iruka said briskly, tossing a few more pages to the side. "This class has never produced such thorough and in-depth essays, until now. I guess I owe you that much credit," Iruka smirked mischievously.  
Kakashi lifted one silver brow. "I'm still waiting for that apology, Iruka-sensei. I'm willing to accept it."  
"I said I should thank the substitute who taught my class yesterday. I never said I would," Iruka snapped. Kakashi winced, still playing with fire. "If you want an apology, go look for my students. They're your biggest fans, now." Iruka sighed. "I'll never hear the end of it...and they're already begging, pleading for you to come back."  
"Fans?" Kakashi frowned. "I don't want any fans." He thought he saw something, another emotion from the endless array of emotions at Iruka's disposal. He often saw it in the eyes of his comrades, as defeated in strength as he his self, equally burdened with the consequences of conquest. Commiseration, it was, for a shared understanding of what it meant to take a life. Surely Iruka knew nothing about this, so perhaps it was pity. Pity…? Why would Iruka pity him?  
"Well, you have fans, whether you want them or not, Kakashi-san." Iruka moved on, grabbing another stack of paper with two hands. "The students will be thrilled to see you, if you're still here when they return from their break."  
"Where is Take?"  
"Mm?" Iruka looked down, staring at a few uneven lines of writing. Kakashi waited, untroubled by the sun reflecting against the rim of Iruka's hitai-ate.  
"I didn't see him amongst your students."  
"That's probably because he didn't come to school today," Iruka replied, giving Kakashi a pointed look. Though the jounin was not often moved by information so insignificant, his mask helped him hide his surprise. Iruka remained stalwart, unmoved, but continued to filter through mounds of student work. Kakashi detected resignation in the younger man, however. Iruka's shoulders often slouched when he worked, but a few added centimeters indicated a personal affliction that Iruka simply could not control. Kakashi had seen it before, Iruka's state of helplessness.  
Kakashi moved closer to the desk, practically hovering above it. He couldn't see the table top for what it was: an old and cheap piece of wood. He saw it only for what it appeared to be: a sea of leafy beige and hot red marks.  
"You're okay with that?" He said, tapping the edge of said desk with two unsuspecting fingers.  
"Am I okay with that, Kakashi-san?" Iruka repeated his words, not sparing a moment to meet his eye, but Kakashi felt it a fair question to be asked. Iruka was most strict about schooling, if nothing else. He believed a well-educated Shinobi could beat the odds more often than most. Kakashi shared this belief, adhering to it like no other. A Shinobi education was the root of success, survival from the enemy, and to have the future of a Shinobi village not show up to class was a national waste.  
Still, Iruka did not look up.  
A few more seconds and the question became obsolete. "An unnecessary question," Kakashi supplied. "You are obviously upset." As if to confirm this fact, the constriction in Iruka's body fell lax. But his shoulders sulked even further into himself, until the smooth, creamy skin beneath his jaw could be seen. Iruka grabbed at it– his hand reached up, pushed against the fabric of his turtleneck, and rubbed slow circles into the vulnerable spot. Kakashi thought that, were he the enemy, killing Iruka would be only too easy. "Maa, I would have thought you'd drag a student to the Academy, if they didn't show."  
"You've been listening to Naruto and those horrible tales he used to tell about me," Iruka sighed, reaching back for the nape of his neck. "I only did it to Naruto because I knew that, if he wasn't at the Academy, he was only up to no good: painting on windows, vandalizing market shops, and generally terrorizing the village...those used to be his favorite pastimes."  
Kakashi chuckled, "So it would seem."  
"I was never in the business of forcing my students to do anything, not even showing up to class. It's not like I'm their parents. Besides," Iruka fell back against his seat, "Take is...different." His eyes darted towards Kakashi. He quickly added, "Considering what I walked in on the other day, I'm not surprise he didn't show up today."  
"Mm..." Kakashi didn't want to dwell on what happened. It was still a heavy burden on his conscience; bothersome, it was, to be unnerved by his own actions, just as he now stood, unnerved by the absence of the hostile boy, a boy he'd only just met.  
"Yes– 'Mm', Kakshi-san," Iruka frowned and crossed his arms. "Take is somewhat of an outsider. It's difficult for him to interact with the other children, and now..." Iruka paused, glancing at something Kakashi could not see. Then Iruka's stare returned, as a constant warmness against his skin. "The students look up to you, just as the village does."  
"Because I'm the Hokage," Kakashi explained, adding reason to Iruka's claim.  
"You are more than just a Hokage, Kakashi-san. You're a model Shinobi– a hero." Iruka's hand reached up again, pulling the base and rubbing up the column. This action was most likely repetitive, Kakashi thought, as Iruka tried and failed to hide a small wince.  
"Spare me your flattery, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi said, circling the chunin's desk.  
Iruka dropped his arm. "Maybe the praise was a bit premature, on my part." The fleeting resentment in Iruka's eyes followed Kakashi's quick and unexplained movements. "What are you doing, Kakashi-san?" By the time the question was asked, Kakashi was already out of sight, standing somewhere behind his chair.  
Kakashi could no longer see Iruka's temperament or the misplaced belief therein. Iruka's body, a frame now rattled with uncertainty, he took into consideration. He reached out, without a moment's thought, and pressed his bare fingers against that skin visible between the chunin's turtleneck uniform and the short brunette tendrils of Iruka's hair. They were soft, Kakashi noted.  
"K-Kakashi-san...?" He fell short. The newly appointed Hokage would hardly waste attention on Iruka's vocal inflection. The flesh around his neck was tender, malleable, and yet tightly coiled all the same.  
He found himself easily annoyed by unexplained habits, with the exception of his own. He could not stand by and watch Iruka grab at his neck without reason. So he imitated Iruka's movements, pressed the palm of his gloved hand against his neck and, beneath his thumb and forefinger, kneaded the tension there. Iruka released his speechlessness with a soft whimper. With two fingers pressed together, Kakashi gently nudged his head forward.  
"You make the mistake of falling asleep, surrounded by my ninken," Kakashi said, diagnosing the problem but, more importantly, the reason. He added pressure to his hands.  
Iruka did not respond, not that Kakashi expected him to. The younger man's ability to react to unforeseen situations was slow and predictable. A fact that made taunting Iruka all that more pleasing.  
"You might want to reconsider their sleeping positions. The smaller of my ninken should rest beside your head, your neck," Kakashi paused, stepping closer. He placed his right hand on Iruka's shoulder, inexpertly massaging down and up the junction between his neck and upper-arm. His only guide being the knowledge of what it felt like to fall asleep surrounded by his ninken. Kakashi usually woke up bruised and sore.  
The Hokage didn't lean on inanimate objects, unless it was his intention. Such bodily contact would imply a weakness or dependency that Kakashi did not posses. Unless resting off the strain of vigorous training or recuperating from a serious injury, leaning was unnecessary. Regardless, he felt the fabric of Iruka's vest press back against his body. "Your upper body will remain undisturbed, if Guruko did not share the same head space; if Bull were to sleep at the base of the bed, rather than near your midsection."  
Kakashi anticipated a retort, at this, one dealing with the indirect admittance of how he did, indeed, spend last night watching Iruka. However, a fresh accusation never came. Iruka remained quiet, his head rolling; adhering to the movements of the jounin's hands. And they roamed, down Iruka's shoulders, arms, and back up again, easing what parts of his body had fallen victim to an uneasy night's slumber. Kakashi felt a shudder beneath his embrace and immediately stopped.  
"Am I hurting you, Iruka-sensei?" Iruka shook his head. "I'm glad. My intention is to relieve you the strain of care taking."  
"...Care taking?" Iruka's voice returned: low, humorous, softer than his vacant tranquility, and Kakashi would not admit to its welcomed reappearance. "I wasn't aware I was a caretaker. I like to imagine, in some small way, I took care of Naruto."  
"You take care of Naruto, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi said.  
"Well, I can hardly be considered a caretaker anymore, Kakashi-san," Iruka replied. His voice was flat and tired. Kakashi frowned, having not received the gratitude he thought he deserved.  
"Then my ninken," he said. The hands resting on Iruka's shoulders traveled upwards, their movements unknown to their owner. "My ninken's ability to drain you of your energy is remarkable, and the way they've managed to crawl into your good graces is still a wonder to me. They have allied themselves alongside you, as animals in need of your assistance: to lounge, to eat and sleep. Were you not so inclined to indulge them; spoil them, as you do, you would not be in pain."  
"You might want to work on your thank yous, Kakashi-san, because this one is lousy."  
"I'm merely pointing out that, for some reason, my ninken have devoted themselves to you. Surely you understand now that, both figuratively and literally, they are nothing but a pain in the neck."  
"Imitation is the greatest form of flattery," Iruka sighed, his shoulders settling into Kakashi's hold. "You're right. I can spare you."  
Kakashi blinked, staring down at the neatly tied hair pouring out from Iruka's head. "I fear we might have strayed from the subject at hand, Iruka-sensei."  
"Too true," Iruka replied, nodding slightly. "Take is at the head of his class. He rarely gets along with the other students, but they're always impressed by him." Kakashi's fingers dipped beneath the collar of Iruka's turtleneck, glided forward, and traced over the jugular notch, testing its sensitivity. The chunin did not protest, only lifting his jaw to provide the jounin better access. Kakashi would have never made a similar movement, not for anyone. With his fingers now gently mapping out the veins beneath only skin and tissue, a Shinobi's understanding of the human neck returned to him by tenfold. It was fragile...vulnerable. Were Iruka an enemy Shinobi, Kakashi would find no difficulties in ending his life; strangling him as he sat.  
"That doesn't explain why he isn't here, at the Academy," Kakashi responded, pushing the image of Iruka's death from his thoughts.  
Kakashi eased the pressure of his ministrations; regardless, Iruka's head fell back to reveal lidded eyes, an even greater vulnerability. "Now the students are going to turn against him," he whispered, "because he attacked their favorite Hokage." Kakashi felt the vibration of Iruka's voice beneath him. He reached up on both sides and nudged his thumbs at the junctions where neck and jaw met.  
Iruka never once commented on the temperature of Kakashi's hands. His hands were certainly cold against the unbearable fever of Iruka's skin. It seemed not a day went by, though, that the jounin didn't question the consistent heat of Iruka's person. The weather outside was just as indecisive as that morning: a sunny, cloudless day, coupled with the remnants of a storm's wind. And despite the open window, Iruka was a constant singularity of warmth. Security for the students, Kakashi imagined.  
The calm acquired from removing Iruka's discomfort was nothing like the lifeless void of Ibiki's chamber rooms. Kakashi anticipated no intrusion—not the noisy rattle of chains or the eye-catching flicker of torch fires. He didn't think about the wafting aroma of takeaway food, the slow hovering of the sun outside, the shifting shadows, or the time passing by. In fact, there was no time.  
This moment was sufficient.  
"Mm... when they don't show up for class, do you tell their parents?" If not, as Hokage, he would have such course of action enforced. That's just what he needed in his term: a bunch of Academy brats skipping classes, running amok in his village, and Kakashi would not be as lenient as the Third or the Fifth. He'd have them all hanging from Ibiki's walls.  
Kakashi hadn't noticed Iruka's delayed response. He stared at the back of his head, contemplating Iruka's conservative hairstyle and comparing it to the way he looked without the constraint of a hair band. Iruka only let his hair down when off-duty. Like last night, when Kakashi watched his ninken sniff and brush against his hair affectionately. There was a time they used to do that to him, many years ago. Kakashi remained perched on a distant tree, because it hadn't been his intention to eavesdrop. Had he, he might have heard a reason that would explain why his dogs preferred Iruka's hair down. Like him.  
"I notify the parents," Iruka finally said, as the jounin's hands pinched carefully at his shoulders, "but Take is an orphan."  
Kakashi's hands stilled.  
"There were days when I didn't want to show up to school. It can be hard, when there's no one there to push you; to encourage you..." he finished. Iruka reached up, his hand searching. When Kakashi felt the tips of Iruka's fingers touch his own, he did not stir. The cold fingers at Iruka's touch were electrifying, like sparks of lightning, reattaching the circuits running through his body and recharging his mind. Iruka frowned, even though the right words were resting on the tip of his tongue.  
Kakashi stared at Iruka's fingers with a raised brow, not alarmed but captivated. The way they curled around his hand, absentmindedly, was surely involuntary. Strange that Iruka wasn't cold, considering the only people Kakashi came into contact with were usually dead. Instead, Iruka's rich, olive colored skin made his own skin paler than normal, and the significant difference fascinated Kakashi.  
"It would be hypocritical of me, to force Take to show up."  
"No. It wouldn't," Kakashi supplied, splitting his attention between Iruka's words and the warmth of his touch. "That's what you've done for Naruto."  
"Take is...different."  
"It's your obligation," Kakashi answered back. He turned his hand over, grabbing Iruka's fingers. He squeezed them, tentatively, but he couldn't understand why. "As someone who cares a bit too much, you wouldn't ignore a student's absence."  
"No. I wouldn't, Kakashi-san," Iruka looked back, sulking. "I also know what it's like to be an orphan." Iruka turned away just as quickly, his inner turmoil remaining his own.  
Kakashi gazed at Iruka, thoughtfully. "I wasn't an orphan, when I was at the Academy, but my father went out on missions that lasted days, sometimes months, and left me by myself. He wasn't in the village, on the day of my graduation." He considered the fingers in his grasp once more. "I was left to my own devices, quite often, and I never missed a day of school."  
"And now you're Hokage, Kakashi-san. What does that tell you?" Iruka scoffed. Kakashi gathered a bit of mirth in the chunin's voice, but reading Iruka was becoming a lot more difficult. That he was standing behind him and, therefore, could not see the emotions on the man's face made it more challenging. Kakashi could settle with this reasoning and shame himself for being less than a keen observer—a superb killing machine. He should have been aware of Iruka's state of mind, before Iruka himself. By body language alone: the uncertainty of the chunin's shoulders as they rose and fell every so often, his measured breathing, the way his free hand tugged anxiously at the navy blue fabric over his thigh. Of course, none of this resonated with the gentle ease of the chunin's voice. Quite the opposite, Kakashi noticed.  
Kakashi felt something akin to unease or nervousness, held in the palm of his hand.  
"I should have skipped classes more often," Kakashi sighed. It was a simple solution to a future complication. A younger version of his self had never considered the option. He was the White Fang's son, after all, and no son of the White Fang would be caught behaving in any way that could tarnish the Hatake name. Young Kakashi was focused and driven to live up to his family's legacy. Young Kakashi would attend classes, everyday, only to graduate months before his peers. Young Kakashi would only progress thereafter, forever hardened by the sight of his father, the Legendary White Fang, lying on top of his own impalement…in a pool of his own blood. He would land himself in a three-man team, with two other Shinobis a year older than him, while instructed by another legend.  
The Yellow Flash.  
His teammates would die. His sensei would become his confidante, his Hokage, until, he too, sacrificed himself for the sake of their nation.  
Even a young Kakashi knew that he never wanted to emulate his sensei, in becoming Hokage. Surely there was nothing more ominous than leading a powerful nation amidst a league of powerful nations. There was nothing more challenging than controlling the lives of thousands with a few uttered words. Not even thousands, Kakashi wagered; perhaps, just a few dozen. Maybe only forty. Forty men and women, many unwilling participants of Madara's army, had lost their right to live. They lost that right that morning, due to a few uttered words. The process would be slow—excruciatingly painful, if Kakashi understood the effectiveness of Ibiki's methods correctly. Their blood will accumulate, puddle into a river, and drain down into the grated floor of dungeon; somewhere, beneath Konoha's benevolent surface.  
It was a younger Kakashi's understanding that, under inescapable circumstances, a leader could make those tough decisions and sacrifice a few lives for the sake of many. But a younger Kakashi would have never anticipated becoming a leader.  
Kakashi reached for Iruka again, and for any one place did not matter. He thought momentarily of removing his gloves, only to remember that he never took off his gloves if he could help it. The movement of his hands changed in breadth and pattern, from circles to long strokes, seemingly curing an undiscovered trauma with every variation. Iruka's head leaned towards one side, guiding Kakashi's hand up the length of his neck, just beneath the soft cartilage of his ear. "Iruka-sensei," he breathed.  
"Mm?" was Iruka's soft-spoken reply. A threat, Kakashi thought. This was a potential threat. He saw two roads, and one stood just as clear and pleasant as when a takeaway meal had promised him a guaranteed rescue. The other road spelled consequence and possible death.  
"About what happened the other day, Iruka-sensei. What you walked in on..."  
"Yes?"  
"...with Take and the kunai..."  
"Yes?"  
"...I was right. My actions are still justified, not only as a vigilant Shinobi but as a leader trying to teach his future subordinates the difference between life and death. It is quick and merciless."  
The hand in his fell, and Kakashi found mere seconds of time to dodge the abrupt shove of Iruka's chair. Even shorter was the time spent watching Iruka turn on him, fury embedded in every fiber of his body, while his chalk-laden palms shoved him back against the wall. The chalkboard hovered beside him, just within his reach, while the distant movement of children taunted his peripheral sight.  
"What is wrong with you!" Iruka spat, but Kakashi thought his tone more hysterical than harsh. He thought his eyes changed an interesting shade of brown, when enraged. Iruka shoved him again, but Iruka posed as no more a threat to Kakashi now, than he did sitting at his desk. The hands pressed against him, gripping at his robes, could have easily been avoided or removed, but Kakashi remained at Iruka's disposal, unmoved. Kakashi had nothing to gain by retaliating, having proven his superior strength and speed over Iruka many times before. Iruka had a habit of proving him wrong, however, and Kakashi did not like to be proven wrong.  
"Is being a Shinobi all you can think about? Skill? Discipline? Death? Overpowering the enemy? Showing others you're that much stronger? Do you eventhink about another person's feelings? I thought you came here to apologize! I thought—!"  
Kakashi had to be right. There was no purpose in being wrong.  
"Kakashi-san?" Kakashi looked down, responding to his name. There was Iruka interrupting his thoughts, the same as before. The chunin's ever-changing mood was exhausting, but Kakashi would not willingly admit to this fact.  
"Iruka-sensei," Kakashi replied, mocking Iruka, but the intention went overlooked. Iruka's eyes fixated on in, abandoning their ferocity for another emotion he could only surmise was sorrow. Or maybe it was pity, misplaced pity, like before. Why Iruka's anger had turned to grief so suddenly was beyond Kakashi's comprehension.  
"You," Iruka said, his brown eyes dancing across the surface of Kakashi's mask, the exposed skin, until it reached the only eye visible on his face.  
"Maa, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi said, watching Iruka watch him. He found himself backing away, however aware he was of the wall pushing against his back. When under such an intense stare as Iruka's, Kakashi felt like a specimen, strewn about a laboratory table. And what did he see on him that was so intriguing? What could make the chunin forget his anger and his epiphany that the jounin in question would rather honor the codes of a Shinobi than relent to his misguided notion of humanity? Out of the corner of his eye, Kakashi saw Iruka's hands move but caught them just mere inches from his chin. Iruka didn't seem to mind or even notice, with his attention forever fixed on Kakashi's face. "Do tell me, Iruka-sensei, what has caught your attention."  
Iruka blinked, returning from his trance. Kakashi felt the disturbance in Iruka's breathing—every ignored inhale, exhale, and rattled heartbeat pounded within their close proximity. Iruka had been in such a stupor that his body forgot it needed oxygen to survive.  
"Your face," Iruka said, at last.  
"What about my face, Iruka-sensei?" With one half covered by a mask and another quarter covered by an eye-patch, Kakashi doubted there was much Iruka could say about his face. Perhaps he was referring to the face Kakashi wore in public, and that would be the mask and the eye-patch.  
"Your eye," Iruka whispered, and so softly that Kakashi thought he hadn't heard anything at all. The hands in his moved again, just a fraction higher and a fraction closer. Then, when Iruka tried to pull away, Kakashi found he was unwilling to let him go. "Why do you..?"  
"Why do I what?"  
"You look..." Kakashi watched as Iruka searched for the right word "...sad."  
Now it was Kakashi's turn to stand in a state of bewilderment.  
"You look sad," Iruka repeated. Kakashi felt the chunin beneath his chin. "Why do you look sad?" Kakashi refused to believe that the sadness in Iruka's face mirrored anything the younger man might have thought he'd seen. Still, for some reason, Kakashi couldn't bring himself to deny Iruka's findings. The fingers cupping his chin posed no threat, and the warmth seeping through his mask was a welcomed change to the cold air filtering through the classroom. His grip eased, with every intention of releasing Iruka, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. The look of worry on Iruka's face was intoxicating, interesting.  
"Iruka-sensei, I believe you're seeing things."  
"No, I'm not," he replied, with certitude Kakashi had to look away from. He would look anywhere but into those brown eyes.  
"Then you're letting your undying concern for others cloud your vision."  
"And you're trying to piss me off."  
Kakashi blinked and sighed, his brow rising only slightly. "Yes. I guess I am," he agreed.  
Iruka shook his head, as if to say such a diversion wasn't going to work. "Something's wrong."  
"I can assure you, nothing is wrong."  
"Something's happened."  
Kakashi said nothing at first. He remained calm and collected, staring at Iruka; expecting the chunin to back down. He didn't. Seconds passed before Kakashi gave in and said, "Nothing has happened that is within your pay grade." He meant for his tone to come out clipped, biting, but even the jounin could hear it was a sad attempt. His grip held firm, however, slowly lowering Iruka's hands. Iruka did not protest.  
To Kakashi's relief, Iruka understood to drop the subject.  
The room was of an entirely different air, by the time Iruka had reclaimed his chair and returned to his desk. Kakashi lingered near, standing over Iruka's uneaten lunch. The jounin even went so far as to nudge the bag with his foot. He looked at Iruka again, but the Academy sensei had yet to move. He seemed to be fixed on one piece of paper. Kakashi gave it a side glance, knowing his normal eye was skilled enough to gather and retain the information of this particular page of work. It was an assignment sheet, covered in writing that was remarkably legible, way above Kakashi's standards for both pre-genin and jounin. Iruka had looked it over, multiple times, and yet there wasn't a red mark on its face. The corner of the page read "Hamamoto Take".  
It was quiet. A high-pitched squeal cut in, from outside, accompanied by giggles and muffled chatter. Kakashi looked to Iruka again, uncertain as to how to pursue the rest of his visit. Iruka didn't seem to mind the silence, so why should he? Only his original tentativeness had made a revival. Kakashi was as eager to disrupt Iruka as a student was to attend his class without having completed their homework.  
"You'll be home tonight," he dared to ask. It was a question with an obvious answer, at that. Even when he volunteered to cover someone's shift or worked overtime, Iruka managed to retire at night. Kakashi understood that even Iruka's strong sense of duty had its limits, and pulling regular all-night shifts was his breaking point. Eventually, Iruka always went home.  
"Early," Iruka said, startling Kakashi. He detected no temperament, other than worry and distress, in Iruka's tone. Kakashi shrugged, seeing as Iruka wouldn't be Iruka if he wasn't worried or distressed. The chunin sat back in his chair and lightly scratched the bridge of his scarred nose. "The strangest thing occurred this morning. Perhaps you can shed some light on this, Kakashi-san."  
"I'll help, if I can."  
"I bet," Iruka muttered, looking the jounin over. "Here I was, preparing for class, when, all of a sudden, Izumo-san and Kotetsu-san show up. I take it you know who they are, yes?"  
"Right," Kakashi drawled. "They work shifts at the gate. How could I forget who they are?"  
"Right," Iruka nodded, the corner of his lips curling into a small smile. "Well, anyway, they're good acquaintances of mind—friends, really; better friends than I expected, apparently. They volunteered to take my shifts in the Missions room."  
Kakashi's eye grew wide. "Did you accept their offer?"  
"Of course I accepted their offer," Iruka scoffed. "I'm not an idiot. They didn't just offer to cover a few shifts, either, but an entire month of shifts!" he exclaimed, the brightest of smiles on his face.  
"That was very generous of them," Kakashi said.  
"Indeed. I was skeptical, of course. Kotetsu and Izumo like to play the occasional prank."  
"As do you," Kakashi pointed out, knowing full-well that Iruka didn't always play the role of the innocent, unsuspecting Academy chunin. Iruka continued to smile, undisturbed by the allegation. Kakashi asked, "Did they offer to assist you with your paperwork?"  
"Actually, they did," Iruka nodded, "and I told them I didn't want to burden them." Nonsense, Kakashi thought. "But then Izumo insisted, so I gave in."  
"Izumo-san does seem more generous with his time." Much like Iruka, Kakashi thought. Alternatively, Kakashi imagined Kotetsu might have made a run from such a proposition.  
Having taken the time to read through both Izumo and Kotetsu's files, the Hokage found no evidence indicating that their off-time was spent productively, like making commissioned runs for extra pay. Kakashi learned that Kotetsu and Izumo spent a considerable amount of time organizing social functions that catered solely to Shinobi or lounging about the village; slacking—not that Kakashi saw anything wrong with that. Apparently, Kotetsu orchestrated their activities, Izumo monitored them, and both suffered an equal amount of demerits for their numerous violations. Other than their shifts and the odd four-man mission, these two had all the time in the world to complete Iruka's, really his, paperwork. Kakashi regretted that even classified documents couldn't disclose why and how two very unpredictable people were the good friends of one very predictable sensei.  
"Academy paperwork, or..."  
"Your paperwork, Kakashi-san. The piles and piles of paperwork sitting in your office. The paperwork that will only accumulate with time. In good conscious, I couldn't ask any more from them. I feel guilty as it is."  
"Well, you shouldn't. It's their job," Kakashi let slip, mentally berating himself for the mistake.  
"I don't remember it being a part of their job, to assist me in my workload," Iruka replied whimsically, tapping his chin. "Unless...someone ordered them to. Someone with a higher authority, who might have it in their best interest to relieve me of the additional stress brought on by taking on another job. Someone who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and now has to compensate for the consequences."  
"That someone sounds like a pretty crafty and considerate character, Iruka-sensei. Perhaps you should thank them, sometime."  
"Oh, I will. Just as soon as I'm done thanking yesterday's substitute. You can be sure of that." Iruka leaned forward, his elbows resting on the edge of his desk. "I think I might take the rest of the day off, when class is over."  
"Good," Kakashi said, looking down and between the tote bag's drooping handles. The aroma of ramen and rice continued to mingle into the chalky air, waiting to be eaten and digested. Kakashi imagined Iruka would wait until he left to eat his food, just to spite the jounin. The paler man wouldn't be given the opportunity to gloat that his peace offering had succeeded. Kakashi would have to come up with another plan to win Iruka over, to fall back into his good graces, but there weren't a lot of schemes that wouldn't make Iruka suspicious. The chunin was, most certainly, average in his Shinobi skills, but his acute skepticism towards any potentially noble deed was most certainly an ability.  
"I'm cooking nikujaga, tonight."  
"Sounds good. I'm sure my ninken will enjoy it."  
"Won't you be hungry, Kakashi-san?" Kakashi looked up, taking the younger man's questioning, unsuspecting eyes and small, knowing grin with some regard.  
"Starving," he answered, an unseen grin stretching across his face.  
Iruka laughed, much to Kakashi's satisfaction.  
The chunin picked up a pile of work and set it aside, to make room on his desk. Meanwhile, Kakashi checked the time. Five minutes until class resumed, he noted. Half an hour managed to pass by, unbeknownst to the jounin. He usually kept track of time, along with other details, like distances, colors, shapes, smells, and whether an object was moved from its original place. Keeping a keen awareness of even the smallest detail was vital to the survival of a Shinobi—Kakashi felt it was a strength engraved in his skin.  
When Iruka started clearing his desk, Kakashi understood that to mean Iruka's lunch break was nearing its end. "Now that I have the time, I think I might visit Naruto," Iruka smiled, his eyes shifting from his desk to Kakashi. This time, the jounin didn't think he wanted to know why Iruka was frowning at him. "This whole time, you never once asked about Naruto, Kakashi-san."  
"I wasn't aware there was something that needed to be questioned, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi replied, staring adamantly at the clock.  
"Don't you want to know why he came by, yesterday?"  
"No."  
"...Aren't you worried about him?"  
Kakashi turned back. His face was set in stone. "I worry about him," he said.  
"Then you must know why he was here, since you didn't ask." Iruka waited for him to say something, but Kakashi wasn't all that inclined to reply. There was resilience in his voice and in his demeanor that told Kakashi Iruka wasn't going to back down. He was annoying Iruka, with his lack of response, and, though it was nowhere near the passive aggressive anger Kakashi walked in on, infuriating Iruka again had never been his intention.  
He simply had nothing to say on the matter.  
"He asked for my help. I'm sure he had you in mind, but considering how you've been about all of this, he probably thought you'd turn him away."  
"I would never turn Naruto away, if I could help it. But he has a tendency to make others' troubles his own."  
"This isn't just Naruto's troubles or the troubles of some stranger. This is about helping a teammate. A friend."  
"He's Naruto's friend. Not mine."  
A look of astonishment adorned Iruka's features. "Then at least, as a fellow citizen of the Leaf Village—"  
"No, not a citizen of the Leaf. He gave up that right when he left Naruto for dead, abandoned Konoha, and joined forces with Orochimaru. He reinforced his betrayal when he tried to kill Naruto again and joined forces with Madara. He is a threat, not a comrade. He is a missing nin, and the punishment for being a missing nin is execution." Not a threat or a certainty. Kakashi held no anger in his words or any other emotion that would suggest he believed any one way about the situation. He merely recited the facts as he understood them.  
Iruka glared and gawked at him, in horror; as if Kakashi had just murdered one of his students, right before his very eyes. He was slowly raising from his seat, too, his movements unknown to him. "Do you practice that in the mirror? How can you say that about Sasuke?"  
"These are the facts, as recorded—"  
"Why would you even think—?"  
"I'm merely stating the fa—"  
"You know that the circumstances—!"  
"The decisions he made are—"  
"You're being ridiculous!"  
"And you're being irrational, Iruka-sensei." Kakashi approached Iruka, closing the gap between them. "If you didn't know him at all, if he wasn't Sakura and Naruto's former teammate and your former student, how would you feel?" he asked. "Sasuke's file reads like a criminal's dossier. Any ally village reading his records would think him an enemy, a spy—that he's not to be trusted. His crimes were not small. He tried to kill a fellow Shinobi. That offense alone calls for imprisonment. If you didn't know him, you would believe that he deserved that much."  
"I know," Iruka said, eyeing him closely, "but I do know Sasuke, and so do you."  
"I once knew Sasuke, Iruka."  
"You know Sasuke better than anyone in this village. Better than Naruto, and that's the truth."  
"...That remains to be seen." Kakashi looked over Iruka's shoulder and noticed Take's homework still sitting on top of the pile. The date written on the corner was in accordance to the date Iruka assigned the work, which was yesterday. Odd, Kakashi thought.  
"Naruto needed me to visit Sasuke, and I did."  
"What...?"  
"I said—"  
"I'm aware of what you said," Kakashi replied, glaring at the chunin. "…How is he?"  
Iruka glared back. He turned around, pulling his chair towards him. "Why don't you go visit him and find out?"  
Kakashi grabbed Iruka's arm and pulled him. "What did he tell you?"  
Iruka looked down at his arm. "Let go of my arm, Kakashi." Kakashi let go, but he didn't back away. He wanted to know why...why Iruka would agree to see Sasuke. Why would Naruto ask? Iruka was a chunin, an Academy sensei, not a trained mediator. What condition made Iruka useful?  
The bell rang.  
"Iruka-sensei, please find the time to eat lunch. That's an order." Kakashi reached down and picked up the meal from Ichiraku's. He handed it to the chunin.  
Flustered, Iruka dropped the bag on his desk. "Wait," he snapped, hoping that by the time he turned around Kakashi was still standing in his classroom. "Don't leave yet."  
"Tonight."  
"What?"  
"Tonight, Iruka-sensei."  
Kakashi clasped his hands together, formed the appropriate hand seals, and disappeared. Iruka coughed, fanning away the puff of smoke left behind. As the residue of the jutsu cleared, he could see his class bustling through the classroom door. Their faces had lifted, exponentially, with cheery smiles and bites of laughter. Their faces were bright with the sun, and it was clear that the lunch break had done them good. If he played his cards right, he could get his rejuvenated class to complete an entire chapter by the end of class. Iruka didn't know whether or not he had the energy to teach an entire chapter, but one thing he knew for certain was that the excitement brought on by the Hokage's presence had been replaced by a good lunch and ample playtime.  
"I smell food!" Tsuki said, racing towards his desk. The moment he reached out and grabbed the bag, Iruka grabbed his hands and pulled them away. "Hey, share the wealth, Iruka-sensei."  
"With all twenty of you?" Iruka asked, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.  
"Did the Hokage-sama leave this for you?" Tsuki asked, searching the room. Iruka grinned weakly, knowing the boy expected his great Hokage-sama to suddenly reappear.  
"Yes, he did."  
"It's Ichiraku's. I can tell," Tsuki exclaimed, reaching for the bag again. Iruka pulled his hands away again, his reflexes being second-nature. None of this seemed to faze Tsuki. "That was nice of the Hokage-sama, wasn't it?"  
"Yes. It was." Iruka watched the rest of his class return to their seats, while their boisterous conversations filled the room.  
"You didn't...kill him, did you?"  
"No!" Iruka frowned, appalled, but Tsuki didn't look convinced. In that moment, the redheaded boy had grown subdued and hesitant, recalling class time before lunch and replaying every time Iruka scolded or lectured him for making even the smallest of sounds. "I don't think I could win a battle against the Hokage." Although, the chunin wished he could. He made a point to award Tsuki a broad smile, to show his student that he had returned to a more docile sensei. "Don't worry. I'm not mad anymore."  
"You're not?"  
"No," Iruka answered, affectionately patting the top of Tsuki's head.  
Tsuki grinned mischievously. "Then...can we spend the rest of class socializin'?"  
"Don't be daft," Iruka scoffed, swatting Tsuki on the back of the head.  
"Owie!" Tsuki rubbed his phantom injury, marching back to his seat. "What am I, the village punching bag?"  
Iruka watched Tsuki go, sporting a sympathetic smile. He then turned to address the whole class. "Alright! Settle down, settle down. Class has resumed and break is officially over. If you stop talking and pay attention you might just leave without having to do any homework."  
Absolute silence washed over his students. Iruka was relieved.  
Chapter Nine  
Kakashi had rematerialized on a road well-known to the Shinobi of Konoha. It cleared a path through the training fields and stretched out along the river docks. Every so often, swift steps, the thud of combat, and the high-pitched clink of metal clashed amongst the surrounding trees. Kakashi could hear them, the Shinobi responsible for making those noises. He heard their grunts and their shouts, only overpowered by the swiftness of their movements, coupled with the force of their impact. He had no doubts that these two were jounin. Whoever fought beyond those trees now would be worthy opponents; highly skilled Shinobi that Kakashi could spar with and feel challenged. He followed every kick, every punch, and a variety of unusual contact blows.  
Very seldom did they move apart to dodge or use their equipment: kunais, shurikens, smoke bombs...were Kakashi with them, he would have told the lighter, smaller jounin—and he could tell—to keep his right arm elevated, to use as a shield, whenever his sparring partner served him an unexpected head-attack. These unexpected head-attacks occurred often. He was unfocused, Kakashi reasoned, too concerned with keeping the strength of his stance and protecting his legs. The other jounin, a larger and much more solid presence, never lost control of his moments and, apparently, was well aware of his opponent's weak spots.  
Kakashi considered walking back, to serve solely as their audience. Perhaps they would permit it, considering he was their Hokage. The opportunity passed him by, however, as the last clank of metal rang through the air. His feet had carried him to the end of the trail, where a clearing of green hills steeped into the adjacent water. Now, as he approached the base of the hill, his eye spotted a growing dot sitting on one of the docks; the body of a child, with its legs dangling over the edge.  
So he approached it.  
"You," he said, not in delight or contempt but, simply, as an acknowledgment of the other person's presence.  
The other person did not greet him so amicably.  
"Oh," it said. "It's just you." Take slapped his hands against the solid lumber beneath him and shot from the dock. He did not falter before his Hokage, even when it was just two of them, and Kakashi was certain that only one of them knew how to kill a full-grown man with a thumb and index finger. Showing bravado in a classroom setting, with school peers as witnesses, was quite different from facing a trained killer on an out-of-the-way path. Kakashi's experience in intimidating children led him to expect certain behavior. So when Take walked away, and made sure to step on his foot in the process, the jounin stood mildly fascinated while absorbing the acute pain in his big toe.  
"Mm...just me," Kakashi hummed. He quickly followed behind the pre-genin, mimicking his steps from the dock to the sloping grass. Little did Take know, or care, that Kakashi had followed him up the slope and back onto the only road leading into the village center. "Where are you headed?"  
Take didn't respond.  
"You should be in class," Kakashi voiced, eyeing Take's stiff movements.  
"You're not my dad. You can't tell me what to do," Take snapped over his shoulder.  
"I'm your Hokage," Kakashi reasoned, but Take kept walking. "...If Iruka-sensei demanded that you go back to class, this instant, would you go?"  
Take stopped and turned around, frowning, while hostility remained etched into his brow. "Why? Is that why you're here? Did Iruka-sensei send you?"  
"No."  
"Didn't he get my homework?"  
"Yes," Kakashi replied, categorizing Take's question under informative. It explained why the jounin had seen the boy's homework, dated the same as every other sheet of homework.  
Take turned on his heel and walked away.  
"…You went to the Academy this morning, didn't you?" Kakashi asked the back of Take's head. "You went to turn in your homework. Based on your question, I can deduce you left it on Iruka's desk, before he got there. You broke in, considering that the Academy locks all doors when classes are over."  
"Does this have a point, Hokage-sama?"  
"You went out of your way to turn in your homework, but you won't go to class," Kakashi noted with some amusement. Take's stomping feet increased in volume.  
"So?"  
"Does completing Iruka's assignments make you feel less guilty?"  
"Shut up!"  
"Maa…You respect him. I doubt that's insignificant," Kakashi drawled, lethargically pulling back his robes. He dug his hands into his pockets. "I have a feeling there aren't many people you respect."  
Take stopped, turning again. "I like Iruka-sensei," he sneered, "and I despise you."  
"Despise is a strong word, especially coming from someone I didn't know existed until a couple of days ago," Kakashi remarked. Take crossed his arms and looked away. "Hatred doesn't exist simply to exist. Usually there's a reason behind it."  
"What do you want from me?" Take shouted, throwing his arms into the air. Only a few minor observations and, already, the boy stood fuming, Kakashi thought. He was just as temperamental as the chunin sensei he held in such high regard. "If Iruka-sensei doesn't want me back, then why are you here?"  
"I never said Iruka-sensei didn't want you back," Kakashi clarified, though he didn't quite understand why telling Take this was necessary. "He seems to feel it's your choice. He said he understood."  
Take's face softened, dare Kakashi think, in fondness for the chunin sensei. "On the contrary, Iruka-sensei wants nothing else but to see you return to the Academy." Kakashi had planted a seed of doubt, if the torn look in Take's eyes was any indication. For someone so burdened with compulsive streaks of stubbornness, Take still was nothing more but an impressionable kid.  
"Just, leave me alone." Take marched off again.  
"Mm...? I think I'll follow you some more," Kakashi beamed, filing in line behind Take's footsteps.  
"You can say whatever you want, Old Man. I'm not going to go to class just because you tell me to."  
"Ne, I'm not old," Kakashi frowned. "I'm only thirty, Bamboo Boy."  
"You're only a perverted, old scarecrow," Take shot back, "and don't call me that!"  
"I thought we were in the business of name-calling." Kakashi walked up beside Take, expecting the boy to ignore him. He did. "Does insulting others only apply to one age group?"  
"You're older," Take said, his focus decisively fixed on the road ahead. "Older people should know better."  
"You think being older makes a person more mature. That must also apply to the reverse, making you, and all your decisions, immature." Kakashi stepped into Take's path. "You are unfit to decide when and when not you can show up for class. And I'm not old."  
Take scowled, eyeing him up and down. "Get out of my way."  
"No," Kakashi replied starkly. "You're an advanced student, far above the level of your peers. You're smart, and you know it. Why jeopardize your only redeeming qualities by skipping classes?"  
"Why do you care?"  
"I don't," Kakashi insisted, "but your strength is vital to Konohagakure. As Hokage, it would be dangerous of me to disregard this treason."  
Take stared disbelievingly. "I'm nine. What are you going to do, imprison me?"  
"No," Kakashi replied. "I'm going to force you to go back to the Academy."  
Two crops of silver hair, a jounin and pre-genin, stared at one another. They stood, unwavering. Kakashi didn't move out of Take's way, despite Take's blatant impatience. Eventually, the boy made a show of it, growling as he walked around the jounin's still form.  
"Tch. I think I hated you less when all you did was stand around, reading your pervy book." Kakashi circled around, watching Take walk away. Take began walking backwards, smirking. "If you're going to threaten someone, you should follow through. Otherwise, you look weak."  
"I'll keep that in mind," Kakashi said. He was beginning to feel frustration tug at the corners of his lips. This was another uncommon phenomenon, much like Iruka for Kakashi, where preliminary perception was often misleading. Kakashi doubted whether knowing Iruka's brightest student would show up along his path made much of a difference to how convincing he could be. Much like Neji, Kakashi thought: Take was annoyed and uncomfortable when it came to truths he'd rather ignore and people he didn't like or, in this case, despised.  
He also noted a lot of dissimilarities between the boy walking ahead of him and the noble Kakashi had worked with on countless occasions. Take's appearance was nowhere near nobility: his wild hair shot out in every-which direction, unkempt, and the clothes on his back were old and tattered. Even his shoes seemed to be falling apart. Kakashi understood that most boys his age did not care about appearances, often ruining their possessions with excessive training or playing, collecting dirt and mud in the process. But most boys Take's age were not permitted to wear the same clothes two days in a row. Kakashi didn't need the acute senses of his ninken to know that Take was wearing the same clothes from the day before.  
"Why are you just standing there?" Take called out.  
Kakashi took another hard look at the boy standing before him. "I was under the impression you didn't want me to follow you. Then again," he shrugged, stepping forward, "maybe you want me to follow you."  
"I don't!" Take scoffed. "I'm done listening to your mind games, you pervy old scarecrow."  
"Then go to class."  
"NO."  
"Alright," Kakashi sighed, "then a compromise."  
Take's face flooded with skepticism, but Kakashi was more focused on the glow of his hazel eyes.  
"Fortunately for you, my interest in reading in no way impedes my vision. You exerted a powerful pulse of energy that sent Tsuki-kun flying across the classroom. Your chakra is more concentrated than any other pre-genin currently attending the Academy. I can teach you how to control the energy you possess; use it to overpower your enemies."  
"Teach me anything and I'll only turn around and use it against you."  
"An empty threat," Kakashi drawled, staring lazily at the road ahead. "I taught you, you turned against me, and that didn't end very well for you, did it?"  
"Shut up."  
"Did you like being humiliated? Did you appreciate looking weak in front of your classmates; in front of your sensei?"  
"I said, shut up!" Take threw a punch that Kakashi dodged with ease. He pulled one hand from his pockets, wrapping a small wrist within his tight grip. Take cried out, helpless against the jounin standing over him, twisting his arm behind his back. "Let go of me!"  
"With strength like yours, you shouldn't have to beg. You are begging, yes?"  
Take said nothing in response. Kakashi tightened his grip, forcing a pained hiss from the boy's mouth.  
"You are too smart and too skilled to fall into the same position twice, Take. The inability to control your emotional outbursts will blind you to enemy attacks and, just like now, you will be powerless." Kakashi released his hold. Take quickly staggered away, nursing his left arm. Kakashi frowned. "I can sense how powerful your chakra is, but you have no idea how to release it. What you did to Tsuki-kun truly was unintentional."  
"So what if it was?" Take scoffed, his eyes watering; his voice shaking with hurt.  
"I can show you how to release energy in a productive manner, with techniques you can use to increase your control. It's not a simple matter of pressing your hands together."  
"Iruka-sensei can teach me all that stuff."  
"He can only show you the basics. I'm offering to teach you techniques that match and exceed your skill level." The jounin heaved a great sigh. Take's doubt was beginning to ebb away, but his face remained riddled with distrust. "Something tells me you like knowing you're more advanced than your entire class."  
"I do," Take bitterly admitted, looking anywhere but at his Hokage.  
"Let me train you, and you can prove to everyone just how skilled you are."  
"What do you want me to do?" Take asked. Kakashi approached him, his hands reemerging from the pockets of his navy-blue pants.  
"My proposal is this: You show up at the Academy and attend class every day, and I'll train you. Do not dismiss the importance of your lessons. That boredom you feel isn't because you don't belong to be there, learning what the other students are learning, but because you aren't being challenged. Being a Shinobi isn't just about knowing your skills are better. It's about using your skills to the best of your ability. To the advantage of your village."  
The jounin knelt down. When he reached out and took hold of Take's arm, he wasn't surprised by the boy's lack of resistance. The pre-genin was much too proud to shy away or even admit pain, if his arm was broken.  
"There's nothing wrong with your arm," Kakashi told him, gently bending the limb back and forward. He was testing the muscle and bone for tears and breaks. "You should be fine." Better he check Take's arm now or wait for Iruka to find out. He'd end up staking out on some branch again. He pushed the arm down, glancing at Take with an exhausted stare. Yesterday had convinced Kakashi that twenty children were too much to handle. Team 7 had led him to believe that only three was a handful. Now one, alone, was draining him of his energy. Iruka truly was a lot stronger than he led on, or, more tolerant, at least.  
"If you go back now, you can make it for the end of class."  
"Then, what's the point?"  
"It's a technicality," Kakashi replied. "Two hours of attendance is better than no attendance, but only for today. Starting tomorrow, you have to attend a full day's class. Do you understand?"  
"Yeah...I understand." Take watched him, intently, but Kakashi had learned quite recently that it was foolish to feel intimidated by the insufferable brat. "I still hate you," the boy scowled.  
"Though your unexplained hatred for me is very interesting, it's neither important nor relevant to my motives."  
"And what are your motives?"  
"I already told you," Kakashi said. "If it's necessary, I will walk you back to the Academy." Indeed, the road they were on would lead them back to the large, public structure. It would only take, approximately, seven minutes from their current position. Kakashi stood up, his one visible eye smiling. "Iruka-sensei will be pleased to see you."  
Take frowned. "Are you his friend?"  
"Maa…I don't follow you." Kakashi said, blinking.  
"I asked if you're friends, with Iruka-sensei." Take glared. "It's either a yes or no. If you can't answer that question, then maybe I don't want to be trained by the likes of you." He folded his arms together, the left one over the right. "Are you and Iruka-sensei friends?"  
Kakashi felt something short of agitation overwhelm him. The boy's stare, alone, was challenging him. He briefly wondered whether his answer was significant to the boy's cooperation. What did his relation to Iruka have to do with anything, anyway? Friend was a term used too loosely, these days, but whether it applied to him and Iruka...  
"I don't know," he answered honestly. Kakashi had never experienced such blatant staring from one child before, and for a reason that had nothing to do with the mask on his face.  
"Tch..." Take walked on. Eventually, Kakashi fell back in step beside him.  
The two walked in silence, until the clearing and the docks were far behind them. They were coming up on the main road, now, which was used often by both merchants, and village guests. Training fields still surrounded them but, every now and then, a few acres of farmland met their way. They even passed by a few farms Kakashi recalled from years ago, where Team 7 completed many of their D-class missions.  
"Speaking of friends," Kakashi said, the topic stumbling awkwardly from his lips. "I'm sure your friends will be equally pleased to see you in class."  
"I'm not friends with any of those people," Take sneered in response.  
"Oh?" Kakashi glanced down, his gaze meeting soft spikes of silver hair. "What about Tsuki-kun?"  
"He's not my friend. He's an idiot."  
"Ne? You two seemed pretty friendly to me."  
"That's because he's the only one who wants to hang out with me." Take kicked a passing pebble off the road. "No one else likes me, which is fine, because I don't like any of them either."  
"And Tsuki-kun?"  
"Like I said," Take stopped in the middle of the road. "He's an idiot."  
"Well, maybe not." Kakashi stopped as well, his hands digging back into his pockets. "He wants to be friends with the smartest kid in class. That doesn't sound idiotic to me."  
"I guess," Take murmured. He looked away, down at the road, and noticed a crowd of small rocks bouncing and shaking on the ground. Take frowned, his immediate response being one of alarm. "Something's happening," he said, turning sharply towards the Hokage. "Something's coming!"  
"I know," Kakashi admitted, and regrettably so. He also felt the rumble of noise speeding their way. "I've grown accustom to it."  
"Accustom to what?"  
"MY ETERNAL RIVAL!"  
Kakashi bowed his head and closed his eye.  
When he reopened his eye, he prayed to see nothing more than the road up ahead. This did not occur, of course, because such luck did not come easily to the jounin. But the thunder of swift, heavy-footed steps drew nearer and more pronounced, as the seconds passed by: two pairs of stampeding feet, the jounin noted, not one.  
"What's going on?" Take looked around frantically.  
"You'll see," Kakashi mumbled. Not a second later, a loud and boisterous jounin appeared. Take jumped away, when an arm swung around Kakashi's neck. He jumped again, to avoid being tackled by another, younger jounin.  
"Kakashi-sama!" Rock Lee shouted, saluting his rather indifferent Hokage.  
"Lee," Kakashi acknowledged, and as for the jounin hanging around his neck... "And to think I honestly thought I was imagining things."  
"Oh, Kakashi!" Gai laughed and slapped his back, causing Kakashi to double over. "You blossom hip jokes!" With a broad smile and a slap against Kakashi's shoulder, Gai's gaze fell upon the boy standing at the edge of the road. "And who's your little friend, my wonderfully youthful rival?"  
"I am not his friend," Take sneered.  
Kakashi looked between the two but noted Gai's confusion, in particular. "Oh. A jokester! Just like Kakashi, I see!"  
"I take it it was you and Lee training in the fields?"  
"Too right you are, Kakashi," Gai humm. "Not all of us have the privilege of sitting around, attending at nothing but meetings and paperwork, like a Hokage does! Lee and I have an upcoming mission, so it's necessary we spend our youthful pastime training to our utmost ability. Isn't that right, Lee?" Gai winked, flexing his biceps and caressing his arms.  
"Yes, sir!" Lee nodded, stepping forward. He reached out, extending a hand in Take's direction. "My name is Rock Lee, pupil of Gai-sensei, but you can call me Lee or 'The Magnificent Lee!'"  
"I taught him that," Gai whispered, loudly into Kakashi's ear.  
"Yeah. I figured as much." Kakashi stared back with a shifty gaze. He looked between Lee and Take, waiting and wondering whether Iruka's student would shake hands with Gai's proud pupil, a jounin similarly cursed with a bowl-cut hairstyle, bushy eyebrows, and ill-advised green spandex outfit.  
After some hesitance, Take reached out.  
"I'm Hamamoto Take," they shook hands, "student of Iruka-sensei…and the Hokage-sama," he finished sourly.  
Lee nodded receptively. "I've known Kakashi-sama for a very long time, but not as long as Gai-sensei. They've been friends for years."  
"Really." Take said, looking between the strange man still flexing in the middle of the road and the leaner, paler man doing everything in his power to ignore him. "Your sensei called him 'Eternal Rival'. That doesn't sound very friendly to me."  
"No, you're mistaken!" Lee exclaimed with unyielding resolve. "That's just how they act around each other. Gai-sensei is always looking for a challenge, and no one challenges him more than Kakashi-sama. Striving to be the best makes them rivals, but they're really very good friends. Almost like brothers," Lee said, looking back to watch his sensei in awe and astonishment.  
Gai had already gone through a routine of poses and was now standing on his hands. Kakashi stood back while, every now then, patting his mask to conceal very loud yawns.  
"Naruto-kun doesn't really understand it, either, but I do." Lee looked back towards Take. "Do you know Naruto-kun?"  
"No, not personally," Take cringed, watching with pained eyes as Gai performed, what could only be, a ritual dance. "I hear other people say his name often, though. Iruka-sensei mentions him, a lot. He likes to visit the Academy some times, too."  
"You'll probably get to know him a lot more, if you stick with Kakashi-sama."  
"Tch...Maybe I shouldn't want to know him, if he's acquaintances with that pervy scarcrow," Take sneered, folding his arms across his chest.  
Lee's eyes grew wide, causing the upper lashes to press against his eyebrows. "Don't you like Kakashi-sama?  
"No."  
"You look just like him."  
Take scowled. "You don't look too original yourself, Bushy-Brow."  
"Wow," Lee breathed, staring at Take with something akin to amazement. "You're probably just as strong as he was, too."  
"Just as strong as who?" Take backed away, because Lee was shoving his face right in front of his.  
Lee pulled back, smiling. "You might look like Kakashi-sama, but you're just like—"  
"LEE!"  
Lee turned, standing alert. "Yes, Gai-sensei!"  
"Don't get comfortable! Our training is not done yet!"  
"Yes, sir!" Lee saluted.  
"Looks like our challenge will have to wait another day, my eternal rival."  
"Oh, I anticipate it," Kakashi replied, dryly. He felt a large hand pat against his shoulder, while the owner offered him a somewhat comforting grin.  
"Give Iruka-sensei my regards," he winked. He turned to his matching pupil. "Let's go, Lee!"  
"Yes sir!" Lee shouted, and the two were off, speeding down the road. Kakashi and Take came together, watching as two whirlwind blurs of green and orange turned into dots, then into specs, until only their distant shouts and passionate cries could be heard, terrorizing the rest of their village.  
"What was that?"  
"Maa...That was Maito Gai and his long-term student, Rock Lee," Kakashi said, watching Take for a reaction. He looked, more or less, dazed by the encounter. "Do not be fooled. The jounin you've just met are two of Konoha's strongest Shinobi."  
"I don't care," Take frowned, glaring at Kakashi. "If we have to wear matching outfits, I'm backing out of this training deal—"  
"No," Kakashi muttered quickly. "No...no...no..." He shook his head, not quite sure who he was trying to convince.

"So that's it, then?" Kakashi asked. Iruka sat on the other side of the coffee table, frowning.  
"That's it," Iruka answered, holding his empty tea cup in mid-air. "From what I was told—from what I saw..."  
Kakashi nodded, watching the chunin set his cup down. Iruka's face was void of all emotion or, maybe, he was just tired. Odd, Kakashi thought, since he assigned Kotetsu and Izumo to handle Iruka's workload. Even with an entire afternoon free, Kakashi sensed a restlessness in Iruka that no amount of off-time could cure.  
"This doesn't change anything," Kakashi remarked. He wished that it did, if only to alleviate Iruka's concern.  
"No... I guess it doesn't." Iruka rose from his seat, stacking their plates and empty cups in the process. "Did you enjoy dinner, Kakashi-san."  
Kakashi climbed to his feet as well. "Maa...very good, Iruka-sensei. Of course, all your meals are as satisfying as the last."  
"Thanks," Iruka muttered, unable to suppress the blush spreading over his scarred nose. He turned, heading for the kitchen.  
"Let me assist you," Kakashi held him back, taking the dishes and setting them on the kitchen counter himself.  
He could feel Iruka's eyes watching him, as though he'd never seen him before, but he ignored it. He went about separating the cups from the plates, setting the flat dishware in the sink, where he then rinsed and stacked them. He rinsed the silverware and set them down in that small basket sitting next to the dish-rack. When he was done, Kakashi still felt Iruka's stare burning into the back of his covered neck.  
"Mm?" he hummed. Kakashi turned, gripping the edge of the sink. "You're tired. I thought I could help."  
"I am tired," Iruka smiled weakly, leaning against the pillar that separated the kitchen from the living room, "and you are helping."  
"I pull my weight around here, don't I?" Kakashi said, gripping his sides in a very Iruka-esque manner.  
"If you say so," Iruka snorted, crossing his arms. "The ninken clean up better than you."  
"Where are they, by the way?" Kakashi asked. With the exception of Pakkun, he hadn't seen his mutts since they decided to betray him and take Iruka's side. He didn't know if he wanted to see them, actually, knowing they preferred the chunin over their own master. He expected such playful disloyalty from most of them but thought Pakkun, at least, would side with him or not take sides.  
"They're in bed, already waiting for me."  
"Ah, yes," Kakashi said, approaching Iruka. "Those deceitful little...ninken. Ne, I guess you should take them, since they favor you more. Of course, I'll have to show you the proper scrolls, how to control them and their own individual chakra. It's a jutsu, as you know, handed down through generations of the Hatake line, but I'm sure you can manage..."  
"No...I couldn't possibly deprive you of their company."  
"You already have," Kakashi droned, hanging his arm against the pillar. Iruka looked up at him, a smirk on his face. Kakashi found impeccability to Iruka's smirk.  
"Thanks, again, for bringing Take-kun back," the chunin smiled. "You didn't have to do that."  
Kakashi shrugged. "He was en route."  
Iruka laughed lightly, leaning forward. "Is that how you excuse your altruism, Kakashi-san?"  
Kakashi met him halfway, humming. "Maa, it's either that or claim ignorance to the concept."  
"Yes," Iruka chuckled, "I guess that's how you'd go about things."  
"Would you prefer me any other way, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi chuckled, an unseen grin escaping his lips. The chunin's smile faltered, Kakashi observed with some curiosity.  
"Yes, well..." Iruka scratched the bridge of his nose, and the displaced air brushed up against Kakashi's mask. "I think Take is warming up to you now. He was very subdued, this afternoon."  
"Mm, I think that was more of Gai and Lee's doing," the jounin clarified. "I'm sure it's an overwhelming experience, meeting the both of them at the same time."  
"Well that's true," Iruka chuckled softly. "Still, I wonder how you managed to convince Take to come back. What did you say, Kakashi-san? I've seen Take hold grudges before. He's not a very forgiving person," Iruka said sadly. "Maybe he really is warming up to you."  
"No," Kakashi mumbled softly. "He made sure to tell me how much he hated me."  
"He doesn't hate you," Iruka pressed.  
"Yes, he does. Not that I care, but I told him..." Kakashi paused to reevaluate his words.  
He could tell Iruka the truth; that he bargained with a nine-year-old child, promising to train him in skills and potentially dangerous techniques above his age group, in hopes that such an incentive would motivate Take to go to school.  
Or, he could lie. "I told him it would please you, to see him returned. I told him you were worried. You wanted him to return but feared dragging him back yourself would make you look too overbearing." A half-lie of sorts.  
"Gee," Iruka grumbled, with a raised brow. "I don't remember telling you that last part," one-quarter, perhaps, "Although, it is true." Ah, a full truth, and Kakashi didn't even have to try.  
"I thought it would be," Kakashi drawled, "Otherwise, the Iruka-sensei I know was kidnapped, and you're an imposter." Iruka slapped a hand against his head but smiled nonetheless. Kakashi followed him with a lazy chuckle. When Iruka pulled his hand back, a strand of hair fell out of place. Before the chunin could pull it back, Kakashi reached out and did it for him. A pale thumb paused, grazing over Iruka's earlobe. The chunin's skin was just as warm as it had ever been. More and more, Kakashi was getting used to the sensation.  
"Kakashi...?" Kakashi lowered his hand to watch the flush across Iruka's face spread over the tips of his ears, making them more pronounced against a backdrop of flowing brown hair.  
"Mm?" Iruka was watching him again, almost, expectantly, and Kakashi feared the chunin might be able to tell he wasn't telling the whole truth. That was preposterous, of course. He was a jounin and former ANBU member. He wore a mask for many reasons, but mostly to conceal the emotions on his face.  
That Iruka could possibly read his face, when no other Shinobi could, made him uneasy. The gleam in the chunin's gaze was most reminiscent of that day, when Iruka said he saw sadness in his eye. Kakashi didn't think he was sad; frustrated, perhaps, with the decision he had no other choice but to make. It was the Hokage's role to keep the peace; to withhold from condemning others to death, by any means possible. Kakashi had done many things, in the span of his career, but killing others with a few words and a head nod was not a duty he'd been looking forward to. He'd rather look his enemies in the eye and truly know that they deserved every agonizing moment of their death.  
No, Kakashi thought, Iruka could not possibly know this. Knowing Iruka and his insufferable idealism, the chunin would be disgusted to know that innocent victims of Madara's mind-control were executed. Iruka would be yelling at him, if he knew, but he wasn't. So…why did Iruka watch him, as though his every deed was written upon his face?  
"Iruka-sensei."  
"Yes?"  
"Do you hate me?"  
"Eh?" Iruka stumbled back, confusion settling over his weary features. "What do you mean?"  
"Do you hate me," Kakashi repeated.  
Iruka stared, appalled. "No!"  
"It's alright, if you do. You have every reason to," Kakashi sighed, letting his half-lidded stare wander off. "If a student of yours can hate me for no reason, then you must have plenty of reasons to feel the same way."  
"Kakashi-san, I do not hate you," Iruka stated firmly.  
"Why not?"  
"I just...don't." Iruka shrugged. "Kakashi," he stepped closer, catching the jounin's one-eyed gaze. "I don't hate you, and Take doesn't hate you. Not really. He's young. He doesn't know what hate is, what it truly means to hate someone. When he attacked you, he had no idea what he was doing. He's just..." Iruka trailed away, searching for the right words. "He lets his anger get the best of him, that's all."  
"And you?"  
"Me?" Kakashi saw a coy smile slowly return to Iruka's face. "I guess I'm just very forgiving, Kakashi-san."  
Iruka reached out and, though he was quite certain the chunin's aim was to rest a reassuring hand against his shoulder, it was an instinctual reaction for Kakashi to reach up and take hold of the foreign appendage. The look of surprise on the other man's face did not extend to Kakashi, who expected the feel of Iruka's skin against his own. Eventually, his grip relaxed. Eventually, the younger man relaxed within his grip. The hand in his was deceptively soft, too, considering Iruka's profession. Considering their profession. Gentle and caring, Iruka's hands promised much more whereas Kakashi's hands were good for one thing and one thing only...Kakashi very much enjoyed the consistency of Iruka's temperature, too, if not always the chunin's temperament.  
He pressed his hand over Iruka's, placing them both up against the base of his neck. Very soothing, Kakashi thought. It was another sensation their kind seldom experienced. It would seem Iruka's lack of field experience and overall sedentary function left him at an advantage Kakashi had never known. As a kid, he'd bitten off the tips of fingers more times than it was necessary to count, leaving them calloused and harder than shells. Now Kakashi only ever felt a slight twinge of pain, whenever he summoned his ninken or did anything else, for that matter. He suffered from scar tissue on the palms of his hands, where opponents had felt it advantageous to stab him through with swords, kunais, and shurikens.  
Kakashi looked to Iruka again, examining more than that uncertain stare. As far as Kakashi could tell, there were no visible marks marring Iruka's body, besides the clean cut across his face.  
"I'm going to need my hand back, Kakashi-san," Iruka whispered.  
"Oh...right." Kakashi released Iruka's hand, and that sensation at the tips of his fingers disappeared. "Iruka-sensei, you are a very soft person," he said.  
"So you've told me before, Kakashi-san," Iruka frowned.  
"I mean it as a compliment this time," Kakashi reached out, taking hold of Iruka's hand again. He expected Iruka to protest, but he didn't. "Hands are very telling," he said, stroking the palm with the pad of his finger. "Your complexion makes you appear rougher than you are."  
"I am rough," Iruka scowled.  
Kakashi just looked at him. "Of course, Iruka-sensei."  
"No, I'm serious. I can scare my students pretty good, sometimes."  
"That's not fear you see," Kakashi said, focusing on the contour of Iruka's knuckles. "That's not intimidation. Whenever your students show trepidation, Iruka-sensei, it is because they are afraid of disappointing you. Take Take, for instance: with no intention of staying for class, he still showed up to turn in his homework."  
"He does that often," Iruka muttered, but his attention had long since grown weak. Kakashi felt he was being indulged; allowed to examine the length of Iruka's hand with his own. He reached down, below the knuckles, mapping out the span of skin above the chunin's wrist before traveling upwards, to intertwine his fingers with Iruka's.  
Then Kakashi turned his hand over, rubbing the tips against Iruka's. "This is rough," he explained, before letting go.  
Iruka nursed his hand, his gaze concentrated on it, confusing the masked man standing before him. Iruka couldn't possibly be so fragile, breaking at the slightest touch. Or, maybe, Iruka didn't really like being touched, Kakashi thought, and that he could understand. He didn't like being touched either. This new fascination with the texture of Iruka's skin, and the sensations that came with it, were equally unsettling. "I hope I didn't upset you," he voiced.  
"You didn't," Iruka reassured him. The chunin smiled. "In any case, I'm forgiving. Remember?" Iruka's laugh was airy and short, leaving room for a very long silence.  
"…Ne, I wonder why Take's such an angry brat," Kakashi pondered out loud, as that afternoon replayed in his mind. That he was here, with Iruka, meant the chunin had forgiven him to some degree. He wouldn't have to go another night without sleep, watching Iruka and his ninken from a distance. He could be assured that they were in the next room, while he kept close track of their slow pulsing chakra signatures. Kakashi could now spend his night staring at Iruka's ceiling, dissecting Take, who was more complicated than Kakashi first expected; a very interestingly aggressive child. What would be the best method to getting Take to cooperate with him? Obey him? Kakashi didn't want to have to train someone who was reluctant to learn.  
"I thought you said you didn't care."  
"I don't." Kakashi paused, watching Iruka's doubt stare him down. "It's just…interesting."  
Iruka still didn't look convinced, but Kakashi wasn't trying to convince Iruka. Was he? He didn't have to care about someone to find their behavior a worthy subject matter, did he? Kakashi hadn't even put much thought into what Take had to say, had he?  
"You're not as bad as you think you are, Kakashi-san."  
"Mm?"  
"I said you're not as bad as you think you are." Iruka looked to his hand, thoughtfully. "I should go to bed, now."  
"Of course," Kakashi agreed. It was getting late. He reached out, not really knowing that he had until he saw his hand grasping at the space between him and Iruka. The jounin quickly lowered his arm, frowning at the confused limb. Iruka looked equally perplex but responded with a hesitant smile.  
"R-right," Iruka stuttered, quickly turning. "Hand me your robes," he called over his shoulder, "so I can hang them up in the hallway closet." Kakashi walked over to the couch, reached down, and grabbed his robes. He tossed them, thinking he'd catch the chunin off-guard. Iruka, however, caught them with one outstretched hand.  
"You're quick," Kakashi chuckled, hoping he didn't sound too impressed.  
Iruka's small smile grew into a smirk. "Kakashi-san, how many times have we done this?"  
"Would you like a numerical estimation?"  
Iruka swatted the idea away. "Spare me, please," he yawned. "All I do is work with percentages and numbers, all day long. It's nice to come home and not have to think...much."  
"Agreed," Kakashi said. Iruka nodded mindlessly, folding Kakashi's robes over his arms.  
The chunin addressed the candle stand placed at the center of his coffee table. "If you're still awake, and the candle wicks run out, you're more than welcomed to put in new candles. There should be some, in the drawer beside the sink," he said, turning to leave.  
"Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi called out, also looking at the candle stand. What candles it held were nothing more than stumps now, reaching the end of their life expectancy. He wasn't surprised, considering how often he and Iruka used them. He'd been meaning to ask Iruka where he kept his candles, so he could replace them himself.  
"Yes, Kakashi-san?"  
Kakashi stared at Iruka, giving the chunin some thought. "Are we friends?"  
"What?" Iruka frowned, his exhaustion more noticeable than ever before.  
"Are we friends?" Kakashi repeated.  
"I-I…I don't know," Iruka answered, unsure. His hold on Kakashi's robes tightened.  
"...I think we are," Kakashi said. He waited.  
Iruka stared, surprised at first, but the pleasant smile resurfacing on his face helped to ease the rapid beating in Kakashi's chest. "I'm glad," Iruka said. "I think we're friends too."  
"Good." Kakashi plopped down, settling against Iruka's couch. All the while, Iruka remained standing by the doorway. Kakashi felt his intense stare, watching as he pulled off his other Hokage garments. Iruka was still watching him when he tossed them on top of the chunin's cluttered desk. "Maa...what is it?" he asked.  
"Nothing," Iruka replied quietly. "Goodnight, Kakashi-san."  
"Goodnight, Iruka-sensei."  
Kakashi swung his legs over the couch, expertly dodging the coffee table in the process. He spread out, covering the expanse of Iruka's unsophisticated piece of furniture. With his head resting against the right armrest, he could see down the length of Iruka's hallway and watch as Iruka disappeared behind his bedroom door.  
Chapter Ten  
"I'm bored."  
"I'm sure the less you say it, the less likely you are to feel it."  
"I doubt it," Kakashi sighed, dragging his arms against his desk. He looked to his left, noting the disapproval on Iruka's face. "Maa...does something displease you, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Why yes," Iruka huffed. "I thought you'd never ask."  
The chunin turned on the other, holding his clipboard beneath his tightly folded arms. He moved to the front of Kakashi's desk, demanding that the indifferent Hokage acknowledge his annoyance.  
"First of all, your posture is dismal...almost non-existent! A Hokage doesn't slouch over their desk! What if someone were to walk in here now and see you like this?"  
"They'd say... "My, does Hokage-sama look bored."  
Kakashi didn't think Iruka could endure such a bold shade of red upon his face. It covered all traces of his dark olive skin, leaving nothing but the promise of a fiery explosion in its wake. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, KAKASHI-SAN!"  
"Inside voices, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi sighed, eyeing the chunin with amusement. This, of course, only proved to further enrage the younger man. "My ninken have acute hearing. You'll rupture their eardrums." The jounin pointed towards Akino, Bisuke, and Uhei, all of whom were taking an afternoon nap.  
Bisuke opened one droopy eye, his yawning catching both men. "It's alright, Iruka. Kakashi's bluffing. We're quite content, hearing you chew him out."  
"Yeah. Serves him right," Uhei grumbled, rolling over.  
Akino remained peacefully unconscious.  
Iruka turned back, a haughty smirk against his lips.  
Kakashi frowned, staring at his rather unhelpful ninken. "I'm replacing all of you," he said.  
"Bluffing," Bisuke mumbled, his eyes closed, while resting his head against Akino's back.  
"In any case, Iruka-sensei, I—"  
"I'm not finished yet," Iruka hissed, effectively quieting the jounin. "Secondly, a Hokage's duties are vital to the function of this village, and those duties involve sitting here: meeting the official business that comes waltzing through that door." Iruka finished, pointing towards the door.  
Kakashi's masked face scrunched up with distaste. "Ne, how can anyone expect to sit here all day?" He mused, tapping the tip of his chin. "I bet Tsunade was mortally intoxicated by this hour. I know Sarutobi-sama idled his time away with a few games of Shogi."  
"That's not true!" Iruka huffed. "He only played on his time, not the village's time."  
"Well, there you go!" Kakashi breathed whimsically, his right eye beaming. "If the Sandaime can do it, so can I."  
Iruka slammed his clipboard against the edge of Kakashi's desk. "You are not going to confuse me with your psychobabble, Kakashi-san!" he seethed. "This is still the village's time and not your time. Have some respect for the people you're supposed to serve with the best of your ability."  
"I do respect and serve the village with the best of my ability," Kakashi said, his tone sobered by the chunin's accusation. He stared Iruka down, expecting the other man to relent and apologize, as per usual. Not serve his village with the best of his ability? He'd only been serving the village, since he was six, with the best of his ability. "I take my duties very seriously, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka almost flung his clipboard at Kakashi's head. "No you don't! Did you think I wasn't going to find out what you've been doing? I'm your assistant!"  
"And a very good one, who would do better to mind the volume of his voice."  
"You can't have your ninken redirecting people to the Missions room! You know what it's like in there, during business hours!"  
"If they're any kind of delegate, they would find a way to circumnavigate around large groups of Shinobi."  
"That's not the point, Kakashi-san, and you know it," Iruka sighed, having exhausted himself with yelling. "They shouldn't have to find their way from the Missions room to your office, only to find that you're not here because Guruko or Urushi tipped you off—which reminds me…" Iruka marched over to the door and threw it open. "Get in here!" he screamed, causing two passing tokubetsu jounins to jump in fright.  
Kakashi had gotten used to the familiar sounds of fellow Shinobi being thrown off by the fury that was Umino Iruka. Of course, the other ninja were never responsible for chunin's anger but victims all the same. No, Kakashi wagered; the reason could possibly be himself but, knowing himself, he would never admit it.  
"I know you're out there," Iruka called out, gripping the edge of the door like a lunatic. Kakashi couldn't help but smile knowing that, for all Iruka's insistence on professionalism and appearances, the chunin would easily throw such notions out a window when necessary. "Now! Or no dinner."  
Two ninkens came rushing in, speeding past Iruka's legs. They were followed by a third dog, Bull, who scurried up in a pleasant stroll.  
Kakashi frowned, watching the burly black dog. "Hey…return to your post," he said, but Bull dismissed the order with one fervid shake of his jowls.  
"I got bored, sitting out there all by myself, but don't worry boss…Urushi got bored of sitting at the village gates, so he came back and took my place. I was hanging back with Guruko and Shiba," he grumbled, as though it were all so simple.  
Iruka stood, appalled beyond anger, gaping as Bull scampered away to join his brothers in a huddle of hounds. The chunin turned on Kakashi.  
"You had them watching the village gate? You had them watching the front of this building?"  
"Ma, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi raised his hands in defense, "I thought you said you already knew."  
"I knew about Guruko a-and Shiba, not that they were all stationed somewhere!" Iruka slapped his hands against his hips. "Let me guess: they switch shifts, don't they?" he scowled. "Is that why these three just been lounging about all day?"  
"Hey," Uhei lifted his lazy head, eyeing Iruka with a drifting gaze. "We earned our nap. Kakashi gave us nightshift. You've worked nightshifts before, Iruka-sensei. You should know what it's like," he finished, pouting.  
Iruka's gaze turned sympathetic. "Kakashi-san shouldn't be ordering you to take shifts in the first place." Then his head snapped back in the jounin's direction. "He should be accepting the visitors that come to the Hokage's door, not having you all mislead people!"  
"Last time I checked, they were my ninken, Iruka-sensei."  
"Last time I checked, the Hokage's ninken were assisting him in avoiding his duties and making excuses for why he never shows up in the morning!"  
Well Iruka had a point there, Kakashi thought.  
"Kakashi-san," Iruka dropped his arms. He reached over and grabbed his clipboard as it teetered on the edge of Kakashi's desk. "It's been over a week now, and you still won't accept the fact that you can't be like you once were."  
"And what was that, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka's urging stare shifted to the floor.  
"You know…obscure. Aloof. A Hokage has to be available to their citizens. You have to be here, in your office, because you never know when an urgent matter might call for your attention."  
"A very reasonable argument, Iruka-sensei, and you didn't even have to raise your voice."  
Iruka's flushed face couldn't get any redder.  
Kakashi stared at his desk, the very same desk he'd been staring at for the last eight days, five hours, twelve minutes, and twenty-one seconds. This desk saw him absent, very rarely. When he tried to while his time away, usually at Iruka's apartment, the chunin usually sent him back here. He wasn't certain who, but one of his ninken kept telling the Academy sensei when he wasn't going to show and, now, with a leave of absence and a substitute instructor in his stead, Iruka was at his side—every day, for the last week, making sure Kakashi presided over the village. As Hokage, however, he was seeing a lot more desk than village.  
Kakashi learned that he wasn't all that fond of staring at desks.  
"Well, if you were a little more considerate…you can't be a Hokage and—"  
"Iruka-sensei."  
"Ah...? What is it, Kakashi-san?" Iruka blinked.  
Kakashi leaned forward, the small patterns embedded in his desk now visible to his eye. "Gai and Lee haven't returned from their mission."  
"I know. They aren't due back for another week," Iruka said.  
Kakashi continued, "Then they're still out there on assignment. They're on the field, performing duties that no one but a trained Shinobi can perform. Their actions will be second nature to them, almost as if they were born to serve one purpose and one purpose only."  
Kakashi looked up, relieved to see some understanding in Iruka's eyes.  
"Iruka-sensei, the way you are with your students is second nature to you."  
"And what way is that?"  
"Patient. Understanding. Supportive. When on missions, I imagine you have some competence; otherwise, you wouldn't be alive."  
Iruka pinched the bridge of his nose. "How can you compliment me and insult me at the same time?"  
"I find it's very easy, Iruka-sensei." Kakashi sulked, all the while oblivious to the chunin now rattled with bitterness. "Your first priority is your students. We're both suited for what we do, is what I mean to say." Kakashi granted the top of his desk another long, hard stare. "I do what Gai-sensei and Lee are doing now, and that is second nature to me. I don't do…this."  
Iruka frowned.  
"I've never done this—never had to and never wanted to." Kakashi eyed the chunin with uncertainty. "As long as I'm Hokage, my duties are performed here...I'm having difficulties accepting the new nature of my purpose."  
Iruka set his clipboard back down, smiling weakly. "It's exactly the same, Kakashi-san," he said.  
"No, it's not," Kakashi shook his head.  
"You're protecting the village."  
"I'm watching the village," Kakashi disagreed, "I am not protecting the village. I'm doing nothing of the sort. I can't be assigned on missions. I can't be eyes and ears. I have to rely on other Shinobi, coming here, telling me what I should already know."  
"Then be here to receive their message."  
"It's not the same," Kakashi said, leaning back against his seat.  
He sensed Iruka could offer no words of consolation, not that he expected him to. Iruka was a chunin who had, long ago, stagnated in his career. A few missions during the off-season, and a very rare number assignments in between, and Iruka had settled with the position of an Academy sensei. Kakashi was once a sensei and quickly grew bored with watching his students complete mundane tasks; the real reason submitting their names for the Chunin Exam was so appealing.  
Kakashi felt a subtle change of scenery was in order. He got out of his seat and circled around that desk he could now describe in perfect detail. He sat against the edge, right beside Iruka and his measly clipboard. "My skills will grow weak without practice, and that won't benefit Konoha the way you seem to think it will, Iruka-sensei," he said, disappointed. The chunin looked bewildered. Speechless. Of course, the chunin wouldn't understand.  
He slipped his hands into his pockets. "Maa, Iruka-sensei..." the jounin shrugged. "Never mind. I'm aware of my responsibilities, and I will be here to fulfill them."  
Now Iruka watched him intently; doubtingly, almost.  
"So you'll be here, every morning?"  
"Every morning."  
"You'll stop avoiding meetings and village matters?"  
"Yes."  
"What about the ninken? You'll—"  
"Iruka-sensei," Kakashi reached out, taking hold of Iruka's arm. The longer Iruka was allowed to tirade, the more unaware of the occurrence he was. However, Kakashi had learned that some form of physical contact always managed to bring Iruka back from a ranting trance. "No tricks," he said, keeping his eye fixed on Iruka's uncertain gaze. "I'll be here."  
"Good."  
Iruka's face reddened once more, embarrassed by his own harangue, Kakashi gathered. After all, if the chunin didn't know by now that he had no authority over the jounin, then he never would, would he?  
"Better you say something now then have one of the Elders find out, ne?" Kakashi chuckled with little sincerity. He let go of Iruka's arm, shrugging. "I should start up on some of those mission assessments." Kakashi pulled the clipboard from Iruka's hands. The jounin looked the first page up and down, noting the various A and B-class missions in need of assigning.  
"Mm… the Sand is in need of assistance. They request two teams, for an escort into the Mist, stating that our alliance will help strengthen agreements with the Water country—"  
Iruka snatched the clipboard back, ignoring the jounin's lazy bewilderment. "Ma, Iruka-sensei…?" Kakashi muttered, but the chunin continued to file through scroll sheets, until a unique piece of paper appeared. "Iruka-sensei…" he tried again, pushing off his desk. He stood over Iruka, expecting to intimidate the shorter man, but his overbearing presence remained unacknowledged. "I was reading that, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka looked up, scowling. "Shut up."  
Kakashi's eye went wide. Iruka returned to his clipboard, pulling a pen from his pocket. Kakashi didn't know what the chunin was up to but, to be safe, he backed away. He tried leaning over to get a look at what it was Iruka was writing, but the chunin turned away, rewarding Kakashi only a stern glare.  
"Mm…May I remind you that you're my assistant, Iruka-sensei, not the other way around."  
"I am being your assistant," Iruka snapped over his shoulder, "by writing you a request form." Iruka turned back, a prominent frown adorning his face. Kakashi reached for Iruka's clipboard again but the chunin pulled it away. "You're miserable."  
"I assure you, I am not miserable."  
Iruka shook his head.  
"You're miserable here," he said, grief in his voice. "It's obvious you don't want to be here, Kakashi-san." The chunin went back to writing. "You'd think someone as lazy as you would enjoy a title that calls for hours of sitting…" he trailed off, scathingly. Kakashi's eye still strained to see what it was the chunin was writing on that clipboard, however. "I don't have the authority to send you out on a mission, not that it's ethical to send a Hokage out on a mission, and your name is no longer eligible to go on the missions roster, either. What I can do is request a time slot for you to exercise your right to continue training."  
Iruka stopped writing. His brown eyes were stern but supportive, watching Kakashi for a response. He received only a relatively dull stare from the jounin.  
Iruka sighed. "I can find jounin, with skill levels relatively close to your own, to act as your sparring partners. For a few hours, every week, you can at least keep to your training regime the way any other Shinobi would, and I'll monitor your Hokage duties during that time."  
Iruka paused again, waiting for a response but received none.  
"Does that work for you, Kakashi-san?"  
"Iruka, that's a great idea!" The two men heard the jubilant cry come from where the ninken lay, in a combination of lazy smiles and resting heads. Guruko sat, beaming, with his tail wagging back and forth.  
"Thanks. Hopefully, this'll stop all this stake out nonsense," Iruka rolled his eyes.  
"Of course, of course," Shiba added, mimicking his energetic brother. "We can train with him too, right?"  
"Sure." Iruka looked back towards Kakashi, smirking. "Now he won't have to spend all his time here, growing restless."  
Kakashi walked over, reached for the clipboard, and, this time, Iruka handed it to him. The request form was written out in its entirety, with all the right statements and terms in the proper place. He looked between the short scroll and Iruka, wondering what other official documents the chunin sensei could write out from memory.  
"Here," Iruka mumbled, producing a pen before his eye. "Sign your signature at the bottom." Kakashi took hold of the pen, staring at the dark line that had yet to be written on. The signature "Umino Iruka" was already written out in the chunin's neat script. Kakashi set pen against paper, pausing. "What's the matter?" Iruka asked, frowning.  
"...Is this really necessary?" Kakashi breathed.  
Iruka grumbled, gripping his waist with a firm hand. "It's regulation, to put everything down on record. Even the Hokage must abide by the laws of the village. Sandaime's outings were recorded, as were Godaime's frequent...indiscretions," Iruka looked away, once again growing red in the face.  
"Ah," Kakashi uttered. "Does that include nights spent drinking in bars and gambling into debt?"  
"Yes, you could say that it does," Iruka mumbled, "but, for Tsunade-sama's sake, Shizune and I always reported it as an outing, nonetheless."  
"Mm," Kakashi looked to Iruka with a dull gaze. "Still seems pretty pointless to me."  
"Just shut up and sign the sheet," Iruka growled, shoving the clipboard up against Kakashi's chest. Kakashi watched, amused, as it took the chunin a few seconds to realize what he'd just done: assaulted his Hokage with a clipboard. The jounin quirked a silver brow, and the clipboard against his chest shakily retreated. "Kakashi-san, please sign the sheet."  
Kakashi took the clipboard back and signed the sheet, still eyeing the chunin sensei. He watched Iruka as he knelt down, with his palm out towards his ninken. In return, a few of them reached out with their jowls and licked his hand. Guruko and Shiba playfully circled around him.  
"The boss is gonna get some time off?"  
"Technically, he spent the last week and a half, getting time off," Iruka scowled playfully, scratching behind Bull's ears, "and you all helped him."  
"Never," Bull said dismissively, closing his eyes in content.  
"We were just pawns in his games!" Guruko jumped up, resting his front paws on Iruka's thigh.  
"It's not like we can defy him," Shiba shrugged, brushing his head against Iruka's hip. "But we can listen to you too. You'll always have the power of veto."  
"And why is that?" Iruka asked.  
Shiba pulled back, grinning. "Because, Kakashi's—"  
"It was nice of Iruka to think of this for you, Kakashi. You should thank him," Akino piped out. He sat on his hind legs now, watching Kakashi with an intensity that greatly disgruntled him for some reason. The jounin found himself more troubled when he realized his ninken were surrounding Iruka, like bodyguards…like a pack. He imagined that if he didn't thank the chunin, his own hounds would attack him. Iruka's watchful gaze was nothing, compared to those expectant glares staring back at him.  
"I shouldn't have to," he replied, at long last, watching Iruka as he spoke. The chunin's expression was, unusually, unreadable. "He's my assistant. He's doing his job."  
"Is that so?" Iruka marched towards the jounin and snatched back the clipboard, tucking it under one arm. "You have your training time, Kakashi-san. I hope you use it wisely."  
"I will," Kakashi answered back.  
"And the rest of you," Iruka turned towards his ninken, addressing them with a much softer tone. "Go home...go rest or something, but I don't want to see you guys around here, picking up Kakashi-san's slack, anymore." The authority in Iruka's tone would never work this well on him, Kakashi thought, as he watched the chunin order about his ninken. He found a small grin forming beneath his mask, for some reason. The subtle twitch in Iruka's brow and the angry quiver in the younger man's lips were very memorable.  
Unforgettable.  
"Roger that, Iruka!" Guruko beamed, while his brothers climbed languidly to their paws. Each scampered by Iruka, one last time, planting a lick against the palm of his hand. Guruko was the last to leave, circling around him. "I'll make sure to let the others know."  
"Thanks," Iruka smiled weakly. The golden dog brushed up against Iruka's legs, left a few licks of his own on Iruka's hands, before following behind the rest of the pack.  
"Mm..." Kakashi frowned, watching the door click close behind his ninken. "Interesting."  
"What's interesting?"  
Kakashi stepped forward, with his hands in his pockets. "Apparently, my ninken are trapped in a genjutsu that makes me invisible," he shoved his face in front of Iruka's, "and you their owner. They say goodbye to you and ignore me."  
Iruka looked to the ceiling, but the close proximity caused a new flush of red to spread across his face.  
"Do you have a problem with that, Kakashi-san?"  
"Nope," Kakashi beamed. "None at all."  
"Good," Iruka said.  
They watched one another. Kakashi monitored the unwarranted uncertainty in Iruka's eyes. What did the chunin expect him to do that he hadn't already done? He'd given his very valid reasons for being absent the last few days, including a crippled old woman, a collapsing bridge, and a riot in the marketplace. Whatever business Kakashi avoided had been taken cared of. With Iruka having called in a substitute for the entire week, there wasn't a situation or mound of paperwork that called for Kakashi's attention. Despite the appearance of negligence, Kakashi was keeping track of things.  
He simply would rather lie out across Iruka's couch, with a cup of tea at his side and a good novel in his hands.  
Iruka did not share the same sentiment.  
"You can watch me all day, Iruka-sensei, but I can guarantee you that I have no other tricks up my sleeve."  
"I'm supposed to believe that?" Iruka scoffed, cocking his waist.  
"Don't you trust me?" Kakashi smiled.  
"You make it difficult to trust you, Kakashi-san." Iruka said, looking away.  
"I'm your Hokage, Iruka-sensei. You should always trust your Hokage."  
"It depends on the Hokage."  
"I'm also your friend." Iruka turned back, a look of alarm on his face, and an indescribable feeling overtook Kakashi. "Don't friends trust one another?" he asked, despite himself. It'd been a week since Take put such a fleeting notion into his mind, however…Kakashi had always had more comrades than he could count, all who shared the pleasures and pain of Shinobi life, but very few friends. Gai could be considered a friend, as well a Yamato, but Iruka...  
"KAKASHI!"  
The low-pitch voice roared throughout the entire building, when a pug pushed the door open and rushed into the room. Pakkun raced passed Kakashi and Iruka's feet and hopped on Kakashi's desk.  
"Mm, what was that?" Kakashi asked, his gaze wandering.  
"No time! No time!" Pakkun grouched out.  
"No time for what?" Iruka asked.  
Pakkun shuddered, offering the two a warning stare. "Brace yourself—"  
"Hatake Kakashi! You insubordinate fool!" Mitokado yelled, bursting through the door. Iruka took a few steps back, but Kakashi remained still, watching the elderly man brandish an accusing finger in his face. "You can't do this!"  
"Elder Mitokado, whatever it is you're accusing me of having done, it's obvious that I can do it, considering that I did," Kakashi said, while Iruka's horror played out in his peripheral vision.  
Mitokado's elderly form shook with fury. "You cannot do this!"  
"Mitokado-san," Iruka bowed. "What's going on?" he asked, puzzlement on his face. "What is it you are accusing the Hokage-sama of having done?"  
"Umino, am I right?" Mitokado scoffed.  
"Y-yes," Iruka frowned.  
Mitokado closed his eyes and shook his head. "This does not concern you."  
Kakashi's gray eye narrowed in on the elder.  
"This matter concerns the Hokage's credibility, not the curiosity of some low-base chunin. You are dismissed!"  
"Iruka-sensei isn't going anywhere," Kakashi said.  
"This is between you and the Council, Hatake—"  
"No. You just included Iruka-sensei when you insulted him. Now, what do you want?" His voice rang lethally low. He could still see Iruka, but the look of horror had changed to confusion, or was that...fear? "I said, what do you want, Mitokado?" he asked again, as the elder choked for words.  
He appeared uncertain, and his anger had greatly receded. Mitokado's gaze shifted uneasily between Kakashi and Iruka, before settling on the perturbed chunin. "My apologies, Umino-sensei," he said tightly, but he did not bow.  
"You still haven't said why you're here, Elder Mitokado," Kakashi broke in, quickly growing annoyed; irritated by Mitokado's presence. He was initially humored by the elder man's anger, but now Kakashi couldn't help the sudden detestation flooding through his veins. He'd never cared all that much for the high council, or any of its members in particular, but the way Mitokado addressed Iruka made him burn with unexpected dislike.  
"Right..." Mitokado ripped his glasses off of his face, wiped them on the end of his sleeve, before pushing them back up the bridge of his nose. "Hatake-san, as the Hokage, you are entitled to a variety of privileges and rights, but one thing you are not allowed to do is undermine the established law and order of this village!"  
"I don't believe I have," Kakashi shrugged.  
"Is that so?" Mitokado snapped heatedly, but he kept his rage well-reserved while underneath Kakashi's piercing one-eyed gaze. "Don't believe, for one second, we wouldn't find out you had five well-trained, perfectly able guards removed from Ward 10!"  
"Alright...then I won't believe that," Kakashi drawled.  
"You petulant, little—"  
"You told me not to believe. That hardly makes me—"  
"I will not stand for this! The council has spoken, and you will abide by—"  
"Apparently, my actions exist, free of the council's influence. It's been working for me, so far—"  
"Kakashi!" Mitokado hissed, "You cannot do something like this, without the Council's knowledge."  
"Why not?" Kakashi asked, incredulity beneath his mask.  
Mitokado's aging frame racked with frustration. "As you are aware, Ward 10 houses only our most formidable criminals."  
"So?"  
"The guards that are placed within that ward are skilled in dealing with high-level criminals!"  
"What's five, here or there, in a village filled with skilled Shinobi ready and willing to take their place—"  
"Do not play games with me, Hatake-san!" Mitokado spat out. "This is a serious matter that calls for serious explanations and serious repercussions—"  
"With all due respect, Mitokado-san," Kakashi hummed, strolling forward. "There isn't much you can do to me, in terms of repercussions. I am the Hokage, after all." The jounin stopped, towering over the much older man. His face went void of all emotion, except well-concealed disdain. "That I replaced five guards from Ward 10 was no big secret. Anyone who cared to read the logs and transfer reports could clearly see my decree. You are capable of such readings, yes? Furthermore, I believe myself quite capable of replacing five specialty jounins with five jounins of the same stature. Given my track record, I feel you can afford me that much confidence. Yes?"  
"This isn't about that and you know it," Mitokado bellowed, his voice growing dry.  
Kakashi cocked his head. "Mm...I should be telling you that."  
Mitokado stared Iruka a quick and nervous side glance. "Hatake-san, do no—"  
"Since my actions do not call for any real reason and, therefore, no real repercussion, I can only assume that you and the council are unnerved for another reason that goes beyond replacing just a few guards. Given the state of things and, believe me," Kakashi pushed forward, forcing Mitokado to step back, "I do know the state of things, such a reason does not stand on a principle of professional integrity but on one intriguingly more...sinister."  
"Hatake, that is enou—"  
"Maa, are you being sinister, Elder Mitokado?"  
Mitokado's lips grew thin, refusing to answer, and Kakashi leaned back, his weight hunched in his shoulders. His low, mocking voice resonated throughout the office, seemingly pleasant. But of course, it was anything but pleasant, as his eye dared Mitokado with a murderous gleam unbeknownst to himself.  
"They were trained guards, Hatake-san," Mitokado repeated, growling. "They were specific to that ward."  
"I'm sure they were," Kakashi stated airily. "They were rather, dedicated, to their duties. Paid specific care to particular prisoners, didn't they?"  
Mitokado's mouth snapped shut, but he continued to glare at the Hokage. "What is this, Kakashi, a need to prove your authority? Rebellion?" he chuckled lowly. "I've known you as a young man capable of many outrageous feats, but I expected more honor and respect, from you, for the ways of Konoha. I wonder, what would your father say?"  
Kakashi frowned, his brow pinched, and the dark, satisfied grin on Mitokado's face grew.  
"Mitokado-san," Kakashi heard a soft voice intrude on his and Mitokado's silent war, "I think Kakashi-sama's father…the White Fang would say that his son was doing the right thing." Kakashi's eyes went wide, flying towards Iruka—even his Sharingan, as it spun madly beneath his eye-patch. He couldn't take his eyes off the chunin and his hesitant yet reassuring gaze. He'd never seen the chunin so certain of his words. Iruka had never met his father, so such knowledge of his beliefs puzzled Kakashi. He couldn't understand why Iruka was so sure of his words. Why was Iruka so sure?  
And why did it help, in some small way, to hear Iruka say such a thing with such confidence? The chunin beside him looked to Mitokado and, eventually, Kakashi turned back, a renewed sense of indifference in his demeanor.  
Mitokado was staring at Iruka again, in a way Kakashi didn't very much appreciate.  
"If you have something to say to Iruka-sensei, then say it. Staring is rude. I'm sure you're aware that."  
Elder Mitokado glanced briefly towards Kakashi, but his unrelenting glare remained fixed on Iruka: the chunin quickly growing uneasy beneath his cold gaze. "I would advise you, Kakashi-sama, to refrain from leaving your summons in front of my offices. If I find one of them again, I'll the lot of them sent to a civilian pound." With that Mitokado turned on his heels, threw open Kakashi's door, and slammed it shut behind him.  
"...What a jerk."  
Kakashi and Iruka turned around, where Pakkun sat scratching behind an ear with an outstretched leg. Kakashi nodded in agreement, while watching the pug and ignoring the way Iruka's eyes were fixed on him.  
"You should defend yourself more often. It makes you appear less weak," he said, walking towards his desk. He could feel Iruka fallowing close behind him.  
"Oh yeah; that's the spot," Pakkun said pleasantly, as Kakashi scratched behind his other ear. Still, Iruka stood at his side, staring at him.  
"That staring is rude rule is a universal understanding, Iruka-sensei."  
"Huh? Wha—you..." Iruka breathed, still gawking.  
"Maa, what is it, Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi asked. "Is there something on my mask?"  
"Mm," Iruka mumbled, shaking his head. "You...you said—"  
"What did I say?"  
Iruka exhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and slumping to the tempo of his breathing. "You said the other day; a week ago, you said that it didn't change anything." Kakashi made sure Pakkun's wagging tail was out of the way before seating himself against the edge of his desk. "You told me nothing would change!"  
"Nothing has changed," Kakashi stated, still avoiding Iruka's wide-eyed stare. "There were five guards in Ward 10, and there are still five guards in Ward 10. No more, no less. Like I said, what's another five? It's still the same duties towards the same criminals; thus, the same brutal mentality."  
"But you removed five guards and replaced them with those of your choosing," Iruka stated slowly, stunned. Kakashi cringed, his head rolling back. "This whole time...is that what you've been doing?"  
Kakashi reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose, but said nothing.  
Iruka chuckled in a sad, depressing way. "You weren't always just sitting around, avoiding your duties… You were enlisting new prison guards."  
Kakashi glared down at the chunin, his brow arched. "Wrong. I was lounging about, doing nothing but reading my Icha Icha novels. Sometimes, I'd go by the Academy and read a few chapters to your students, Iruka-sensei."  
"You would rather I believe you were being lewd and irresponsible than admit that, on some level, you still care."  
"No. I don't care," Kakashi growled.  
"Who did you choose?" Iruka asked, ignoring what he felt was the jounin's blatant denial.  
Kakashi frowned, searching Iruka's brown eyes for that genuine curiosity. "I chose subordinates of mine, from my Anbu days," he said slowly. "Men and women that I know are loyal to me and will respect their position, no matter the prisoner."  
Iruka nodded in understanding.  
"Iruka-sensei, he'll come to no harm, under their watch."  
"I know," Iruka replied, the brightest, fullest grin adorning his face. Even with a small frown and eyes muddled with emotion, the chunin seemed to glow. It was significantly different from those tired glares and frustrated sighs. He was beaming, and Kakashi found that watching Iruka in such a state of happiness was just as satisfying as all those murderous glares and mind-numbing rants. "Thank you, Kakashi."  
Iruka forgot to add the honorific to his name, he was so elated.  
Pakkun finished scratching behind his ear, when he realized that Kakashi had done the same. He realized that the jounin's attention was focused solely on the chunin before him. Curious, the pug looked around Kakashi hip and saw the happiest of smiles on Iruka's face. Pakkun backed away slowly, a smirk snaking it's way across his mouth. Then, when he was a good distance away from the two, he pounced.  
"Sorry about that!" Pakkun grumbled out, charging his master. His head-on collision pushed the jounin off the edge of the desk and forced Kakashi to the floor. Pakkun choked on his own sinister chuckle and ingenious success, having suspected that Iruka would not react fast enough to step away.  
"Oi!" Kakashi shouted, feeling his weight collapse against his feet. He stumbled forward, just enough to throw him off-balance. It worried him to know that his thoughts had taken him so far away from reality as to diminish the speed of his reactions. He turned back to glare at the pug, but Pakkun was too occupied with coughing, for some reason, to play witness to Kakashi's annoyance. He would have made Pakkun rue the day he met him, had he fallen. Instead, Kakashi's hands had reached out, gripping cotton fabric and lean muscle.  
It was then that he realized it was Iruka's arms, his body that had stopped him from falling.  
Iruka appeared as stunned as Kakashi felt, standing stark still in his hands. Kakashi felt a pulse run through Iruka's body, his rapid breathing against his mask, and his heated gaze staring back at him. He was startled, a reaction Kakashi wasn't surprised to see from Iruka.  
"Kakashi-sama!" There was a hurried knock, but the door flew open anyway, revealing a rather rattled tokubetsu jounin. Iruka's eyes snapped towards the door, but Kakashi remained relatively undisturbed. "Eh…?" he paused, staring at his Hokage and the Academy sensei. "My apologies, Hokage-sama. Iruka-sensei." He bowed. "This is pretty urgent, but I can wait outside..."  
"What is it, Aoba?" Kakashi asked, his grip on Iruka firm.  
Aoba shot up, his sunglasses falling back against his eyes. "Yamanaka-san and Morino-san request your presence in one of the lab chambers."  
"Which chamber?" Kakashi asked, his hands gliding down Iruka's arms.  
"The...lower chamber," Aoba said slowly.  
Kakashi nodded, releasing Iruka. With his balance regained, he shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Ne, Iruka-sensei."  
"Y-yes...?"  
"Looks like there is some business in need of my attendance, after all." He smiled. "Stay here with Pakkun. I'll be right back."  
Iruka watched him in confusion, lifting his clipboard into view. "I'm your assistant. I should come with you."  
"No."  
Kakashi took hold of Iruka's clipboard and placed it on his desk. He could feel the chunin's eyes on him again, as well as his clumsy pug of a ninken. The jounin ignored them both, nodding towards Aoba.  
"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Kakashi hummed, meeting his fellow jounin by the door.  
Aoba paused, uncertain on how to respond. "I know, Kakashi-sama. I didn't think you wouldn't know..."  
"I do know," Kakashi said. "I just wanted to know if you did." Kakashi leaned forward, with his hand pressed against the door. "Tell Yamanaka-san and Morino-san that I'll be there in a few moments."  
"Yes, sir," Aoba nodded, giving another short bow. Kakashi watched him sprint down the hall, deducing that the matter at hand could possibly be quite urgent. He gave Iruka and Pakkun one more glance; a cheerful, one-eyed grin.  
"I'll be back."  
The door snapped shut behind him, leaving one man and one dog staring at mere space.  
Pakkun circled around, stomping his paws against the top of the desk. His face was set in a permanent scowl, staring at where his master once stood. His low growling and paw stomping caught Iruka's attention.  
"What's wrong, Pakkun?" Iruka asked.  
The pug stopped, pouting. "Kakashi is an idiot."  
"Why do you say that?"  
Pakkun shook his head.  
"Never mind, youngster." He reached out with one leg, inciting Iruka to come forward. The ninken watched Iruka's helplessly puzzled glance turn into another warm smile. When he felt a few fingers brush against the top of his head and glide up and down the coat of fur on his back, Pakkun closed his eyes and beamed. "The important thing is you're not an idiot, and that's all that matters."  
"I'm glad you think so," Iruka chuckled, rubbing all the small ninken's woes away. "Pakkun?"  
"Yes, Iruka?"  
The chunin sensei gave him a warning stare. "No more stake outs."  
"He he," Pakkun breathed, exposing his belly to those talented hands. "Of course, of course."

"Here." Iashi pulled back the white sheet. Kakashi stepped forward, with Ibiki and Inoichi at his sides. There, displayed before them, lay Tsunade's cold, rigid corpse on a slab of metal. She was draped in the garbs of deceased leader, with thick royal purple robes and everlasting flowers adorning her colorless face. "We did everything we could, to work around the ceremonial dressings."  
"It is acceptable," Inoichi said from Kakashi's left, nodding. "It is difficult to preserve the respect of their death and examine a Hokage's body at the same time, but you've done a fine job, Iashi-san."  
"Thank you, Yamanaka-san," Iashi replied, bowing from the other side of the tale. He turned towards Kakashi. "Kakashi-sama."  
"Mm?" Kakashi looked up, his attention too drawn by Tsunade's appearance. He'd seen hundreds of deaths, and more dead bodies than could be deemed healthy for any human being. Tsunade-sama was not the first Hokage he'd seen dead, still wearing their funeral attire long after the initial mourning period.  
"Have you nothing to say, Kakashi?" Ibiki asked coyly, from his right. "Words of respect or thoughts regarding the Godaime…?"  
Kakashi went back to watching the lifelessness displayed before him. "Tsunade-sama looks...serene." Kakashi truly believed that she did. Despite her tightened features, the true age of her face, and the gray-blonde hair hoisted up in a dressed bun above her head, Kakashi had never seen the woman look so peaceful in all the years he'd ever known her. "What was found after the autopsy," he asked out loud, glancing at Iashi. The medic-nin sighed, his eyes wide with puzzlement.  
"We found ourselves in need of another autopsy," he answered. "Further examination showed a foreign strand of biochemical code that went undetected until just a few days ago. Had it been missing, we would have never known, but that Tsunade's chronological aging had yet to take place, we felt obligated to keep her body open for examination."  
"Examining what exactly?" Kakashi asked.  
"The decaying process," Iashi said, eyeing the three men. "Tsunade-sama was not decaying, indicating that a particular bacterium in her genetic make-up was still functioning, as if Tsunade-sama hadn't died."  
"That's not possible," Kakashi muttered, staring at Tsunade's face. "This bacteria..."  
"Is a pathogen, feeding off its human host long after life."  
"A virus."  
"Yes, Kakashi-sama," Iashi nodded. "It was ingested as a capsule, in a fashion commonly used for dissolving drugs." Iashi walked over to one of the counters, returning with a tall green glass bottle in hand. "We found the same agent chemical in this, hidden beneath Tsunade-sama's desk."  
"That's Tsunade's sake bottle," Kakashi said, his brow furrowed. He glanced at Iashi, the older man's grave stare confirming what he now knew to be the truth. "Tsunade didn't die a natural death. Someone poisoned her."  
"Yes, Kakashi-sama."  
Kakashi's gaze narrowed, staring Inoichi, Ibiki, and Iashi with frustration. "You chose to wait until now to tell me this."  
"No," Ibiki cut in. "The medic team assigned to Tsunade's case wanted to be absolutely sure, to avoid unnecessary scandal. How safe would the village feel, knowing that even the Hokage isn't safe from sabotage?"  
"Do we know who the culprit is?"  
"Not yet," Inoichi answered. "I extracted Tsunade-sama's lingering memories and thoughts, all within a span of the last four months. At no point did she feel her life was in jeopardy or that someone was out to get her."  
"This is war, Inoichi-san," Kakashi said. "I would be more worried to find that, as the Hokage, Tsunade wasn't paranoid, in the pursuit of preserving her own life."  
"My team found no evidence that Tsunade-sama was aware of her assailant," Inoichi finished firmly, forcing the younger man to relent. A thought-filled silence took over, before Iashi drew their attention once more.  
"I was able to date the poison's presence just a few days before Tsunade-sama's death. Whoever did this has an expert grasp of poisonous chemicals that are undetectable in the blood system. Even that this poison continued to thrive, two weeks after Tsunade-sama's death—"  
"He planned it that way." Kakashi paused, a gloved hand hovering over Tsunade's body. He ignored those wide-eyed stares, focusing solely on his sannin predecessor. "That the poison could go undetected, during the days before Tsunade's death does not guarantee its success. He needed to stay, to ensure its effectiveness." Kakashi fixed Iashi a hard stare. "Two weeks would give him enough time to get away from the village and disappear entirely."  
"I take it you know who this culprit is, Kakashi," Ibiki said, his voice urging Kakashi to tell him who. Kakashi remained silent, however.  
He turned, a blank stare on his face.  
"I have a good idea. Iashi-san."  
"Yes, sir."  
"You can cover Tsunade's body now."  
"Of course," Iashi agreed, pulling the sheet back over the blonde woman's lifeless form. Kakashi gave Tsunade one last look, until only his memories of her were left at his disposal.  
"Good work." Kakashi nodded towards Iashi, walking away.  
He felt Ibiki and Inoichi following after him. It was annoying, to say the least, to have others constantly flanking his sides. Now, everywhere he went, the Rokudaime felt the lingering presence of Anbu guards following his every step. At his office, they were there. Here, draped by expert Shinobi such as Ibiki and Inoichi, they surrounded the area, seemingly unnoticed. When he went to the Academy, they were there. Only at Iruka's apartment did he not feel their presence, which was a wonder Kakashi cared little for. But he was grateful, knowing there was one place, at least, where his whereabouts weren't being tracked.  
He couldn't help but think about all those years spent completing S-class missions alone, with no one but himself to lead. "Tsunade's assassination was a preliminary, I take it?"  
"Every new Hokage must oversee and observe the remains of the last Hokage," Ibiki stated. "The Godaime's murder was a tragic coincidence. I'll have two Anbu teams search the outskirts of the village."  
Kakashi waved the idea off, turning. "Don't bother. He's gone," he muttered, not at all compelled to explain who "he" was. "Where's the prisoner?"  
"This way, Kakashi-sama," Inoichi replied, turning a corner.  
The two taller men took the lead, guiding Kakashi before an enclosed room, where only a bar window on a chamber door gave him insight on what was inside. He saw a man sitting on the dank and gritty ground, before Inoichi stepped in front of the door.  
"When he said he wanted to make a deal, I extracted his knowledge to gather whether he would be honest," Inoichi explained, unlocking the door. It creaked open, crying to be used more often.  
"What's the verdict?" Kakashi asked.  
"His mind is shrouded in a self-induced, deep-rooted disillusionment jutsu, so there is no way of getting a clear account of the truth by force."  
Kakashi nodded, his hand taking hold of the rusty metal handle.  
Ibiki and Inoichi stood back but Kakashi remained by the door, staring down at the imprisoned man. The prisoner's body appeared as worn as the prison clothes on his back, but the leer on his face told Kakashi of a man in control of his person. A man who had willingly pledged himself to Madara's agenda.  
"While we were eliminating Madara's followers, he pleaded out; made a deal, the only one of Madara's followers that did." Ibiki came forward. "In exchange, he'll tell us the information Yamanaka-san couldn't extract: dates, locations, whereabouts, numbers..."  
"Mm."  
"He says he'll only talk to the Hokage, however," Ibiki finished.  
Kakashi nodded, watching the man as he pulled against his chains. "What's the deal?"  
"Life imprisonment, but it's better than death." Kakashi didn't know whether he could agree with that belief. Given the bitter disappointment adorning Ibiki's face, the scarred man would rather see the prisoner dead than live out a life in prison. Kakashi stepped forward but felt a large hand grace his shoulder, holding him back. "Be careful, Kakashi. This may be a trap."  
"I am aware of that," Kakashi muttered over his shoulder. Knowing Madara, his kind, this follower could easily have been booby-trapped to go off at a particular moment. Kakashi had seen too many walking time bombs to fall for such an asinine trick. "Ibiki-san. Inoichi-san."  
"Sir?"  
"What is it?"  
Kakashi looked between the two. "I'm closing the door. Wait out here."  
Kakashi didn't wait for their responses, passing the threshold and closing the door despite any objections the two might have had. If anyone knew how capable he was to handle the situation, it was Morino Ibiki and Yamanaka Inoichi. Likewise, were he in any danger here, the two would have his back in an instant. Kakashi watched the prisoner fight to keep his own head up. He would find no threat here.  
"You wanted to talk?"  
He was met by a long silence.  
"Yes," at last, he heard the man growl out a response. "Hatake Kakashi: the Leaf's new leader. Still alive but not for long."  
"I take it there's some forewarning in those words," Kakashi sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "This is your life on the line, not mine. You can keep talking in riddles, or you can give us the information we want. That way your life will spared, which is a fate that can't be said about your comrades."  
"You had them murdered," the prisoner seethed, lifting his head.  
Kakashi watched those bloodshot red eyes, addressing the prisoner with little regard. "Yes, and they died with dignity. You, however, bargained to keep your life by telling us what we want to know."  
"It's too late," the prisoner chuckled hoarsely.  
"It's not too late," Kakashi drawled, his eye narrowed. "You're still alive. But if you'd like to test my patience, I can easily put you back on the chopping block."  
"I killed your last Hokage!" the man spat. "What makes you think I won't do the same to you?"  
"You didn't kill the Godaime," Kakashi said, his voice low. An image of Tsunade, covered in silk purples and floral arrangements, flashed before his burning glare. "I suspect that you, as I do, know who did kill the Godaime. I want information on his whereabouts, as well."  
"NO! NO! NO!" the prisoner cried in pain, a scream that echoed through the dingy room, contrasting sinisterly with the broad smile across his face. "We will have our justice, and the tyrant Leaf village will fall! It's too late for you...It's too late!"  
It happened in a flash. The prisoner had one hand ripped from the wall, and his shackled arm fell to his side. Just as Kakashi rushed forward, the tale-telling marks of a jutsu snaked its away down the man's exposed skin. Black lines and torn skin, reminiscent to the markings seen on Orochimaru's subjects, were embedded on the man's flesh. Then the jounin heard crackling and knew that it as time to go.  
Kakashi caught a flash of the explosive tags growing from the prisoner's skin, before he rushed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.  
"Get away!" he yelled out to Ibiki and Inoichi who, instead, grabbed him and pulled him away from the door. Kakashi felt the heat at the tip of his fingers; felt it singe strands of his hair, before the entire room shook with explosions. The building rumbled but remained standing, craftily reinforced the day Yamato was forced to rebuild its remains from the last war.  
The three fell against the wall farthest from the room, as the last few bursts of fire blew stone and steel, leaving nothing but a gaping chasm filled with heavy smoke.  
"Kakashi, I told you to watch out!" Ibiki growled.  
"I told you to get away," Kakashi shot back. "We're even now."  
In a blink of an eye, those same Anbu guards assigned by the Council to follow his every move appeared, all over the explosion sight like a swarm of insects.  
"Did you manage to gain any information?" Inoichi heaved out, cringing at the sight before him. Kakashi said nothing, which was as much an answer as any. He climbed to his feet, just as the others had, staring at that gaping hole now serving as their only lead's death tomb. "Damn it!" Inoichi seethed, kicking the rubble at his feet.  
Kakashi rubbed a hand over his chin, sighing.  
"Kakashi, I'm sending out teams," Ibiki said, defiantly. "If not to catch the culprit then to ensure we find another bastard like this one willing to spill everything they know!"  
"Do it, if you must." Kakashi replied, his eyes straining to see past the smoke and rubble.  
"Is that all you have to say?" Ibiki asked.  
Kakashi gave it a moment's thought...sending teams out made a lot more sense now. Given the lack of manpower and the lack of evidence, sending two teams out would have truly been a waste of time. But that, however, was before one of Madara's followers decided to plan this ruse and blow a hole through his building. Kakashi said nothing on the matter, looking between Ibiki and Inoichi with a half-lidded stare.  
"Today's definitely gotten a lot less boring."  
Chapter Eleven  
10:00  
The chunin had never seen his class so tame, so...quiet. He certainly had never seen them so obedient in front of a substitute instructor before. Kakashi-san's chaotic stint was not a valid example, though the instance had crossed his mind.  
No, he thought, shaking his head. Memories of bad behavior consumed him, and yet he smiled. He thought of all those substitutes he couldn't apologize enough to and still looked on with an affectionate grin. He could see a dozen or so students from here, all of which were concentrating on their in-class assignments. Though reminded of their deviousness, the chunin couldn't help but think they were absolutely perfect.  
His smile grew weak when he realized he'd hadn't seen his absolutely perfect students for some time, and he held his hand still against the classroom door, wanting more than anything to teach his students.  
Iruka wasn't sure who was teaching his class now. When he applied for a leave of absence, the board chose a number of substitutes willing to take his place. Iruka didn't necessarily know who these people were but knew enough substitutes were hired to cover the time he was gone. He could breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that he assigned enough work to keep his students occupied and the substitute's job task-free.  
"Sir, when will we get a break?" Iruka heard Tsuki ask. He rolled his eyes and chuckled, knowing only Tsuki would sound so eager to get out of doing work.  
"You keep asking this, and I keep giving you the same answer. When all of you are finished with the assignment, you can have your break," was the reply. Iruka believed he knew that worn out voice.  
"Man...! Iruka-sensei would have let us out ages ago!"  
"Well, I know that's a lie. I happen to be a very good friend of Iruka-sensei's, and I know for a fact that he's much too anal to let you all out before you've finished an assignment."  
Iruka pushed the door open, turning a small gap into a gaping doorway. "What's that supposed to mean?" he scowled, glaring at the other man.  
"Iruka!" Izumo gaped.  
"Iruka-sensei!" The children smiled, their faces brightening. Iruka smiled as well, glad to see his students for the first time in days.  
"Hello, everyone," he chuckled, waving. A few students had already jumped out of their seats to greet him, especially a very animated Tsuki, but Iruka pushed his hand into the air to stop. "No, no...Finish your assignment first. Don't you want your break?"  
Iruka nearly fell over himself with laughter, at how quick his students were to hop back into their seats. Tsuki was the worst, gripping his paper with both hands and shaking it with determination. He fixed the redhead a fond smile, before his gaze scanned the room, making sure everyone was occupied with their work. He felt an instant surge of shock escape him. There, sitting at the back, studying his work was Take. The chunin couldn't believe his eyes, as the silver haired boy usually never came to school if Iruka wasn't going to be there.  
He walked over to where Izumo stood leaning against the chalkboard. "Iruka," Izumo sighed. "What brings you around this neck of the woods?"  
Iruka crossed his arms and fixed Izumo with a long, hard stare. "I don't know—you tell me. I'm so predictably anal that I couldn't possibly leave my students in the care of another. I have to make sure everything's going as planned," he frowned.  
"Hey, I didn't say all that," Izumo argued, laughing nervously.  
Iruka looked towards his students, especially the small boy at the top. "I hope you're not going around, talking about me to my students."  
"I wouldn't do that," Izumo breathed, staring back at Iruka's class. "Besides, they seem to know quite a lot about you, already."  
"You haven't been the substitute all this time, have you?"  
"No," Izumo shook his head, the bangs over his eye temporarily falling out of place. "Just the last couple of days," he answered. "Considering our obligations to you and Hokage-sama, I thought Kotetsu and I should volunteer, if you were ever needed a substitute."  
"What did Kotetsu say?" Iruka asked, although he had a pretty good idea of what his other friend might have said. After all, the spiky haired man was nowhere to be seen.  
"The moment I said "substitute" and "Academy students", Kotetsu made his name first priority for gate shifts," Izumo scowled.  
"That definitely sounds like Kotetsu," Iruka laughed lightly. "Regardless, I'm grateful to you guys, for helping me out like this."  
"No problem," Izumo waved off. "Just glad to be of some help. We're sure the Hokage keeps you quite busy."  
"Yes, he does," Iruka said hesitantly, watching Izumo with great suspicion. "He's a handful."  
"I bet."  
"His antics keep me up at night."  
"I'm not surprised."  
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Iruka growled, giving his class a quick glance to make sure their attention was taken by the assignment.  
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Izumo shrugged. "Iruka, I don't think you're all that upset."  
"I am!" Iruka hissed. "Because of him, I was forced to take a leave of absence. I miss my class." Admitting it out loud only made the truth more saddening for the chunin sensei. He turned to his class again, watching their studious faces twist with thoughts, wishing he could have been here to walk them through the lesson. Doing so might have eased the difficulty of their work. "Making sure Kakashi-sama does what he's supposed to do is taking away the time I have with my students."  
"Iruka," Izumo sighed, watching his friend with some frustration. "Kakashi-sama is an adult. Tell him you're not going to be there, and he'd take care of his own duties. The only reason he slacks off is because he knows he has you to pick up the pieces."  
"You think so?"  
"I know so," Izumo insisted. "You're his security blanket. Take that away and he'll be forced to get over himself."  
Iruka fell silent, considering Izumo's words.  
"In any case," Izumo continued, stretching his arms and eyeing his friend whimsically, "you enjoy having to fix everything for him. You claim to be fed up with the Hokage, but I've never seen you happier than when you are with him. Kotetsu says you practically glow."  
"I do not!" Iruka scowled, the blush on his face shedding light on his embarrassment. "I am nothing but professional."  
"So you keep telling yourself," Izumo said despairingly, rolling his eyes. "Don't you feel anything?"  
"Anything of what?" Iruka asked.  
"Never mind," Izumo muttered, shaking his head. "Kotetsu says that things like this shouldn't be forced."  
"Things like what?"  
Izumo watched his friend with a strong stare of disappointment. "I expect this much obliviousness from the Hokage but not from you, Iruka." The chunin looked away, as it was difficult for him to ever have a bad word to say about his flush-faced friend. A lot of Shinobi often disregarded Iruka's optimism and politeness as ignorance and naivety, but Izumo knew better. Iruka was not as daft as people thought he was—as daft as he was being now.  
"...What would you expect from me," Iruka said, a faint smile on his face, "to obsess over things that can never be?" Izumo's eyes grew wide. Iruka looked back, the sadness in his voice betraying the smile on his face.  
"I'm done!" Tsuki raced down the rows of tables and slammed his sheet against Iruka's desk, eyeing the two chunin with crazed accomplishment. Iruka laughed, but Izumo quickly picked it up, eyeing it with suspicion. "I completed the whole thing, so can I go now?"  
True to the boy's word, the entire worksheet had been completed in answers varying between large print and tiny scribbles. Still, the substitute looked it over, humming to himself. "I doubt any of these answers are right."  
"Probably not," Iruka answered back, playfully knocking the side of Tsuki's head.  
"Geez," Tsuki whined, rubbing his head, but he smiled all the same.  
"You heard Izumo-san. When everyone has completed the assignment, you can leave. You're not special."  
"Of course I am!" Tsuki beamed. "Besides, if no one else is smart enough to finish the assignment, than that's their problem," he huffed, turning away.  
Iruka looked to Izumo with amusement, because he'd never seen such an irritated scowl on his friend's face. "Something tells me this is your problem too," he retaliated, waving Tsuki's work in the air.  
Soon enough, more and more students walked down from their seats, forming a pile of completed work on top of Iruka's desk. Instead of returning to their desks, the children eagerly grouped themselves around him.  
"Iruka-sensei!"  
"Where have you been?"  
"Are you coming back to teach us today?"  
"No, no," he laughed lightly, rubbing his scar. "I'm just here for a visit."  
"Are you coming back to us?"  
"Of course."  
"When?"  
Iruka spent hours lying in bed, absently petting the heads and rubbing the bellies of sleeping ninken, contemplating that very same question. He came up with the same answer time and again, even if the consequences left him with less sleep. "I should be back by next week."  
"You promise?" Tsuki asked, staring up at him.  
Iruka opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. "I promise, Tsuki."  
"Alright, you guys," Izumo intervened, breaking up the crowd of students. "You wanted your break, so go have it. Will resume class in thirty minutes." The students gave their last greetings to Iruka before racing out the door, and he watched them go with great pride. Then he jumped in alarm but instantly settled his shock with a smile, when eager arms wrapped around his waist. Iruka patted Tsuki's back, and the redheaded boy's hold only tightened.  
"Go take your break. I'm sure you've earned it." Iruka turned to Izumo, smirking. "He has earned it, yes?"  
"With all the strain he's put on thinking, in the last couple of days?" Izumo shrugged. "I think he's earned it."  
Tsuki pulled away, grinning madly.  
"Bye Iruka-sensei! See you later, Izumo-san!" The boy waved them off, as the two chunin watched him race away.  
"He's certainly a ball of energy, isn't he?"  
Iruka shook his but grinned, knowing Izumo didn't know the half of it. Ten in the morning meant nothing when it came to Yorokobi Tsuki, who refrained from bursting through the Academy doors when he could help it. Tsuki spent the majority of his day bouncing in his seat, waiting for that moment to throw pencil and paper aside; to move on to a more exciting venture, like meal time or play.  
"What's he still doing here?" Iruka followed Izumo's puzzled gaze to the top of the class, where a lone figure sat in his seat. "Hey, I've seen your other work," he called out to him. "I'm surprised you weren't finished before Tsuki. Hand me your paper and go play."  
Izumo moved and reached out, expecting Take to meet him halfway, but Iruka stepped forward, placing a hand on Izumo's arm. "I'll handle this," he said firmly, his eyes fixed upon Take. He then turned to Izumo, worrying the older man with a sober smile. "Go take your break. You know you're going to need it after teaching this class."  
"Yeah," Izumo exhaled, eyeing Iruka skeptically. "I'm going to go see what Kotetsu is up to."  
"Probably sleeping," Iruka joked.  
Izumo chuckled, shaking his head. "Probably."  
Izumo departed and Iruka moved, having heard the distinct 'click' of the classroom door shutting close. He walked up the platforms, passing rows of desks and chairs, very aware that Take was watching his every step. Iruka knew the boy's gaze to be unyielding, insinuating, and the chunin couldn't help but feel suspect. It was a feeling most familiar to him, as he often felt his very existence questioned in the same manner, by the jounin he now called 'friend'.  
Iruka closed his eyes, trying not to think about...that.  
When he reopened them, he found himself standing over Take's desk, smiling in the face of his blank stare. "I'm glad to see you've been attending your classes more often, but you don't have to stay here," Iruka smiled. "Go outside and play with your peers."  
Iruka would suggest it, but the likelihood of Take playing with the other students was very slim. In all his years working at the Academy, Iruka had never seen a student so opposed to playing with other students than Take. 'Well, except Sasuke,' Iruka thought, frowning. He still hoped to see something of a smile of the boy's face before he went racing off to join the other children which, most likely, would never happen.  
Iruka held hope.  
Take continued to frown.  
"Take..." Iruka sighed, pulling up a chair beside Take's desk. He studied the boy with a warm gaze. "You don't have to play with the other children, but you should go outside and enjoy some fresh air. There's a clear blue sky out there, and it's been sunnier today than any other day this—"  
"Iruka-sensei."  
"Mm?" Iruka's voice fell, but his small smile remained. The absence of cloudy weather calmed his mind, but it did nothing to ease the stark frown on Take's face. "What is it, Take?"  
Take fixed his sight to the floor. "Where have you been?"  
"Well..." Iruka gently drummed his palm against the desk. "I've been working."  
"But you work here."  
"I work a lot of other places too," Iruka said, smiling faintly. "True, I work at the Academy, but I also work for the Missions room and for the Rokudaime."  
"Oh," Take said. Iruka looked down as well but didn't see much, only the subtle swinging of Take's legs. They didn't quite reach the floor yet. "...Why haven't you come to see us?"  
"I..." Iruka paused, regarding Take carefully. Those magnificent hazel eyes of his were staring at him now, burning into him with sadness, and making his heart ache. Iruka could not return even the saddest of smiles. "I've been really busy, but I promise to come by soon. I'll cook some breakfast. We can go fishing, have a picnic..."  
"We just want to see you," Take interjected.  
Iruka blinked, caught off-guard by the boy's stern glare.  
Take looked away again. Iruka smiled. "Alright then," he said. "I'll be there, and we can do whatever you guys want to do."  
"You promise?"  
"I promise." Take nodded slowly, indicating he believed him, but his unmistakable frown hadn't changed. His idle fingers danced across his worksheet, taking his attention away. "You should join the rest of the class now," Iruka insisted softly. Take didn't respond. It was upsetting, to see Take so removed, but Iruka should have been used to it by now. The boy's unresponsiveness made it even more of a shock to see him attending class. "If you want," Iruka began, tapping his fingers against Take's worksheet, "I can stay for a while and keep you company here."  
"I'd like that," Take said, frowning.  
"Mm." Iruka's brow furrowed. "Is there anything that can be done to get you to smile?" he asked. The question made Take smiled. "I knew you could do it," Iruka laughed.  
"Leave me alone," Take mumbled, trying to fight both a smile and a faint blush.  
"I couldn't possibly leave you alone," Iruka hummed playfully, his hand reaching for Take's side. "I'm not your teacher today, so, I can do this!" Take burst with laughter, flailing, trying not to fall out of his seat.  
"Stop! Stop tickling," he barely got out, his lungs working for more air.  
"What was that? Keep tickling you?" Iruka laughed, growing more persistent.  
"No! Stop! Stop tickling!"  
"I guess I have no choice then," Iruka breathed, his hand retreating. He had effectively driven laughter from Take's brooding nature, which was all he could ever ask for. "See?" he smiled, pointing at Take's face. "There's a smile."  
"I'm not smiling," Take scowled, but his upturned lips betrayed him.  
"You smiled and you laughed," Iruka noted. "I knew you were capable of both."  
"Whatever." Take rolled his eyes. Iruka chuckled, regarding his reclusive student with mirth.  
"I bet if you tried, you'd play along with the others quite nicely. You'd be the best at playing ninja."  
"I don't want to play ninja. I want to be a ninja," Take said.  
"Oh," Iruka blinked, taken aback by the determination in Take's voice. "Then I'm glad you're back in school. Whenever there's a substitute, they always speak of how skilled you are. You don't give any of them any trouble either."  
Take said nothing.  
"I had a feeling that what happened last time wasn't your fault," Iruka grimaced, having to think of that arrogant jounin who spoke so diligently about discipline. He had to scoff, knowing that if Hatake Kakashi knew anything about discipline, he wouldn't have started a fight with a nine-year-old pre-genin. "The meeting could have waited," he mumbled to himself. "I should have never left. Jounin can be a bit too...eccentric for a classroom setting. Unfortunately, however, they make for great specialty instructors."  
Iruka shrugged away the thought, smirking.  
"But don't worry: it will be a long time before I ask Kakashi-sama to come by again."  
"The other substitutes bore me."  
"…I'm sorry to hear that." Iruka's face fell. "There's only so many instructors available—"  
"Is the Hokage-sama a good ninja?"  
Iruka frowned, troubled by the sudden question. He went to speak but said nothing, fearing what his first answer would be.  
"It depends on what you mean by good," he stated slowly. "I mean, the Hokage-sama is a good ninja, both as a person and as a soldier." Iruka could have slapped himself for saying 'soldier'. It sounded like something Kakashi-san would have said. In fact, he recalled quite clearly, a time the jounin did say it.  
"They are no longer your students... Right now...they are my soldiers."  
"How good?"  
"He's one of Konoha's elite Shinobi; the greatest of our time. Kakashi-sama was vital to ending the Fourth Shinobi War. He's brilliant," Iruka finished, surprising himself with his own words. Of course, he'd always held such high opinions of Kakashi-san.  
Take's frown darkened, much to Iruka's understanding. The chunin scooted forward, placing a comforting hand against Take's arm.  
"Take, he was vital to ending the war—ending the violence." Take's frown softened, but Iruka knew he was still upset, frustrated with the idea of war.  
But, this sudden curiosity towards the Hokage-sama...Iruka didn't understand. He could have sworn the boy disliked Kakashi-san, for singling him out in class. Iruka leaned back in another student's seat, reached up, and scratched the bridge of his nose. "What you saw the other day, when he instructed the class, is nothing compared to all that he is capable of."  
He saw a few curt nods from the boy, Take's head moving with the weight of a boulder.  
"What about as a person?"  
"What?"  
Take pulled his hands away, clasping them together. "You said he was a good ninja, as a person and a soldier. What's he like as a person…Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka felt his brow constrict with uncertainty. Still, he hooked the bottom of his chin with an index finger and searched his mind for an appropriate response.  
"He's...a good person—a good man." The chunin soon smiled, "He takes pride in what he does and protects the people and the village, because they are important to him. When he had students," Iruka paused, staring pointedly at Take, "he cared about their safety, their development. He still cares about them." Iruka saw a slow nod, not truly knowing what information impressed his student.  
Internally, he questioned the legitimacy of his own words, as he thought of Naruto, Sasuke, and Kakashi-san's blatant neglect towards the entire situation. "Why do you ask these things, Take?"  
"I was just wondering," Take shrugged, but Iruka hummed, suspicious.  
"I doubt that." Iruka produced a bitter smirk. "What are your motives, Take? Know the enemy?"  
"No," Take sulked. "I just can't believe a guy like that can be a Hokage."  
The Academy sensei's eyes grew wide, laughter in his voice. "And what kind of guy do you think Kakashi-sama is?"  
Take gave Iruka one of his hardest glares, one the chunin could never take seriously.  
"Insane."  
"Take!" Iruka could recognize that obnoxiously loud voice in his sleep. He turned and smiled, not at all surprised when Tsuki came bursting through the door. The redheaded boy scanned the room, quick to find Take and ecstatic to see Iruka. "Iruka-sensei!"  
"I'm still here, Tsuki. What did you..." the impact of Tsuki's embrace startled him. "Oof!" Iruka coughed out, looking down at Tsuki's head. "I-I said I'll be back next week."  
"That's not soon enough," Tsuki pulled away.  
"Tch," Take scoffed, crossing his arms. "You're telling me..."  
"Take!" Tsuki jumped out again, and the chunin was more than happy to lean back so that the boy could reach his intended target. Tsuki pulled one of Take's arms away from his chest. "Take! Take!"  
"What?" Take growled, yanking his arm away.  
"What are you doing in here?" Tsuki smiled. "Come on! We're playing tag! If you don't come now, you'll miss the game!"  
"I don't care." Take looked away, a faint shade of red creeping onto his face.  
"Sure you do," Tsuki insisted, racing around Iruka's chair. He quickly latched onto the younger boy and dragged him out of his seat. "Who doesn't care about tag?"  
"I don't!" Take scowled.  
Iruka chuckled, watching Tsuki drag Take away. The silver haired boy gave him a look that screamed of disapproval, but at no time did Take pull himself away. Iruka was obligated to do nothing but smile. It was refreshing, he thought, to see Take interacting with a peer, and he knew Tsuki to be nothing but friendly to Take, which was something he couldn't really claim about many of his other students.  
"See you later, Iruka-sensei!" Tsuki waved, reaching for the door. His other arm was fastened around Take's, linking the two together. The look of death on Take's face was priceless, coupled by a dark ruby blush that Iruka only ever saw on himself.  
"Enjoy your break," The chunin waved back, watching them leave, certain that the smile on Take's face would last for a while.

13:00  
Having found space in an already jam-packed storage room, Iruka went about filing papers. He sulked, slapping another document against Kakashi's desk, still muttering about how he wouldn't file papers he couldn't store. The day was blue skies and partly cloudy, with the gentlest of breezes swooshing through the open window, and here he was taking care of Kakashi-san's work.  
"I guess that's my fault," Iruka sighed to himself, collectively tapping the pages on the table top. "I did offer to help." It was a decision he knew he'd regret in the long-run. "It was my choice." Iruka paused, still holding the same file: a record of missions assigned and completed last week.  
Any business written down on a piece of paper had to be reevaluated by the Missions board, the Hokage, or, in this case, Iruka, which was an obligation the chunin did not take lightly. Abridged mission reports, merchant transactions, correspondents with other villages, and daily reports continued to fly across the desk, after heavy scrutiny beneath Iruka's gaze.  
He worked with measured pace, focused on the task at hand. His morning visit to the Academy invaded his thoughts. The students he couldn't wait to teach again were a pleasant distraction to his work. He picked up another pile of paper, smiling, thinking about the misery on Take's face when Tsuki dragged him from the classroom.  
"There's hope for you yet, Take," Iruka grinned.  
"Does something amuse you?"  
Iruka quickly straightened out and looked up. There, standing by the door, was Lady Utatane.  
"Lady Utatane," Iruka shot out of the Hokage's chair and bowed, smiling politely.  
"Iruka-sensei, of course," Utatane nodded, carrying a small parcel in her hands. From the looks of it, Iruka deduced it had to be some long-winded form or document for the Hokage. "I recall you plenty of times as assistance to Hiruzen and Tsunade."  
"Yes," Iruka confirmed, nodding and bowing.  
Lady Utatane closed the doors behind her. Her eyes remained narrowed, and her mouth thin-lipped, as she stepped forward. "Pity you didn't hear me come in. I could have been an enemy Shinobi, here to kill the Rokudaime."  
"My apologies, Lady Utatane." Iruka bowed again, not wanting the elder's stern stare to see the flush of embarrassment on his face. He went about clearing the clutter on Kakashi-san's desk. "I was just...very focused on getting this paperwork done."  
"No matter," Lady Utatane voiced. Iruka met her gaze again, as well as the large envelope hovering between them. "Make sure Kakashi receives this."  
"Of course," Iruka's blinked, staring at the unknown package. "May I ask what this is about, Lady Utatane?" Iruka was blushing again, mentally berating himself. It wasn't his place to question an elder. He could only imagine how Elder Mitokado, Lady Utatane's male counterpart, would respond to his curiosity.  
'He'd probably tell me to mind my place,' Iruka thought resentfully. Disheartened, he suspected Kakashi-san would do the same, and he expected Lady Utatane to do so as well.  
Yet, he witnessed a firm yet subtle smile grace her regal features.  
"You may open the contents and read them for yourself, Iruka-sensei, but I would like some reassurance that Kakashi will receive this dispatch as well."  
"Yes, Lady Utatane," Iruka bowed again, taking the envelope with both hands. "This dispatch will be received by the Hokage-sama."  
"Good." Lady Utatane released her hold and turned to go. Iruka quickly followed beside her.  
"Let me get the door for you."  
"Do not bother, Iruka-sensei," Lady Utatane waved away. "I can see myself out. Return to your duties."  
"Yes, Lady Utatane," Iruka bowed, again, returning to Kakashi's desk.  
Lady Utatane watched him return to the Hokage's chair and return to his work. She remained for some time, watching him. Iruka sat back down and scooted forward, taking another pile of papers tacked together by a paperclip. He reached beneath the desk and opened the top drawer, shelving the envelope for now. Then he quickly moved on to his previous task, trying to ignore Lady Utatane's astute stare.  
"Iruka-sensei." Iruka looked up again, rising from his seat. "Remain seated," the elder added, and Iruka remained seated. Lady Utatane paused, gazing at him thoughtfully. Iruka practically squirmed in his seat, not knowing what to do when under the tutelage of an elder's gaze. "I am curious to know what the Hokage's doing at this moment, to leave you in charge of his duties."  
Iruka scratched the bridge of his nose. "He's...taking a personal day," Iruka explained, terribly. The nervous smile on his face drooped with misery. "He requested a day off—wrote out the request himself."  
"I see..."  
Iruka nodded, quickly going back to his work. Regardless, Lady Utatane was still there. He tried ignoring her presence and going about his work but found it difficult to perform his duties when her eyes seem to question his every movement.  
"Are you acting as Kakashi's assistant now, Iruka-sensei."  
"Yes, Lady Utatane."  
"Do you enjoy the tasks he gives you?"  
Iruka thought about the question, only for a moment, before retrieving more papers to review. "It can be hectic, at times, but the work that is completed here is vital to the function of Konoha."  
"A well-spoken answer," Lady Utatane responded. Iruka kept his smug smile to himself. "Still, it must be difficult, having to deal with Kakashi's...eccentricities."  
Iruka's brow furrowed.  
"It must trouble you to some extent, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka looked up again, offering the elder another polite smile. "I manage, Lady Utatane."  
"Oh, really? Well isn't that nice." Lady Utatane's beady eyes grew wide. "Although, I hear you're very dedicated to your duties as an Academy teacher." Iruka nodded, busying himself with paperwork rather than how true that statement was. "I also hear you're quite popular amongst your students, both past and present. I'm sure you miss teaching your classes." Iruka looked up again, surprised. "Academy rosters are public records," Lady Utatane explained.  
"Oh...right," Iruka frowned.  
"As are Missions shifts," Lady Utatane added, gracing the front of the desk with her presence. "Your name is scheduled for every shift this week."  
"Yes," Iruka nodded, smiling, even though the strain of courtesy was taking its toll. "I thought my days off would be better used picking up other shifts," he explained, which wasn't the truth, but it would be inappropriate to tell an elder the real reason anyway. The truth was Iruka was finding it harder to live off of his Academy salary alone. Expenses weren't cheap, in a Shinobi village, especially food, and Kakashi-san's dogs possessed the appetite of a small army.  
"Truly dedicated," Lady Utatane said.  
"Thank you." Iruka gave another hesitant smile, before continuing his work. These stacks of papers weren't going to file themselves, and he had to be done before his shift in the Missions room later that day.  
"Mm," he heard the elder hum, and he did his best to refrain from responding in any negative manner. Her constant hovering had him concerned with the moment she'd leave rather than the task at hand. "Sacrificing the time afforded to you is surely a challenge. I imagine that, without rest, your capabilities as a Shinobi are waning."  
Iruka paused, bemused and troubled by Lady Utatane's remark. "My capabilities as a Shinobi?"  
"Of course," replied, "What with all your time dedicated to work, you couldn't possibly find the time to exercise your skills."  
"With all due respect, Lady Utatane, I am quite a capable Shinobi."  
"I'm sure you are," Lady Utatane smiled, "which is why Kakashi hired you to carry out such vital duties."  
What did Lady Utatane mean by that?  
"I'm sure Kakashi's...personal day is filled with urgent matters, considering he has you here, completing his duties."  
"I volunteered my services, to make up for his absence."  
"The obligations of an assistant take what little time you must have for yourself. You're due in the Missions room, in a matter of hours."  
Lady Utatane made statements like facts Iruka was not already aware of.  
"Iruka-sensei," she breathed, smiling her thin-lipped smile. "Clearly, your time could be better prioritized. As a chunin sensei, your first priority should always be the education of your students." Iruka felt his fingers lock into tight grips, clutching at the papers in his hands. "You are aware of this fact. It seems the added workload has caused you to lose sight of things."  
Iruka felt a breeze of cold air sweep across his face.  
"Clearly, your skill in office duties is the reason he enlisted your assistance, but surely you don't believe Kakashi is necessarily in need of your services?"  
"He offered and I accepted, Lady Utatane," Iruka answered shortly.  
"Your usefulness has been recognized. There are other ninjas in this village with more flexible schedules—assistants that are accredited for their skills in secretarial work."  
"Oh."  
Lady Utatane was already standing by the door, by the time Iruka worked up the nerve to stare at her.  
"Perhaps a reevaluation is in order. Kakashi can find himself a stable, hard-working woman to act as a permanent assistant." Lady Utatane judged the room with one last look. "This room is in need of a female's touch. Wouldn't you agree, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka nodded. "I suppose so. I'll make your suggestions aware to the Hokage-sama," he replied flatly.  
Lady Utatane's brow rose, offering very little satisfaction. "Good. See that you do, and make sure that Kakashi receives that dispatch as soon as possible, Iruka-sensei."  
"Yes, Lady Utatane," Iruka said with little vitality. He bowed again but couldn't find it in him to smile, too drained by the discussion. "I'll be sure to inform him, as soon as possible."  
"Be sure that you do, Iruka-sensei." Lady Utatane gave one last firm nod, before seeing herself out of the room. Iruka watched her go, swaying for a few lingering moments. When he finally collapsed against the Hokage chair, the sight of papers piled together, clipped together, and scattered about made him groan.  
He just wanted to close his eyes and wish it would all file itself.

14:00  
From a distance, they all looked like specs of metal flying in the air, clashing up above, and Iruka used the shine of their weapons to find the right field. To Kakashi-san's convenience and his annoyance, the jounin had failed to mention what training field he and his sparring party could be found. But he breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Yamato-san leaning against a tilted tree. Perhaps he was the tree stump, as well as the leaves bursting from its branches. Knowing Yamato-san's ability to manipulate wood and his history of using said skill for elaborate luxuries...Either way, Iruka's steps turned into a brisk walk, relieved to finally see a familiar face amongst the hills and trees.  
"Yamato-san!" he called from just a few feet away.  
The captain turned. He spotted Iruka and smiled.  
"Iruka-sensei!" he waved over. "How are you, this afternoon?"  
Iruka's steps came to a halt.  
"Busy," he joked, offering the jounin a pathetic grin. He lifted the parcel in his hand, further explaining, "I just came by to discuss some business with Kakashi-sama."  
"Kakashi-sama," Yamato muttered, looking towards the sky. "Well, he's up there, somewhere...has been for hours," he chuckled, shifting his weight. "If you can get him down from there, then be my guest."  
Iruka followed Yamato's gaze, listening to the distinct 'clink' of impact. Now, from below, those specs of sunlight were closely followed by blurs, bodies moving at speeds that only a keen and concentrated stare could dissect. Iruka counted five, and three of them were human.  
"Iruka-sensei!" Iruka felt a firm grip around his midsection, before a sudden jerk pulled him to the left. There, in place of where he once stood, were a dozen or so senbon stabbing the ground. Iruka stared at the small but highly poisonous needles, trying to understand why he himself could not sense the danger headed in his direction. His eyes moved from the ground to the arm wrapped around his waist...the fingers pressing into his vest with earnest. He turned his attention to the person that had called his name, Yamato, who was now staring at him with a look Iruka knew to be an acute level of worry. "You didn't see that coming?"  
Iruka shook his head, a fervent blush spreading across his cheeks.  
"No," he swallowed but managed a small smile. "I'm okay, Yamato-san. Thank you." Yamato nodded, releasing Iruka from his hold. The chunin regained his footing and looked away, towards the hectic skies above him. Iruka could still feel Yamato's questioning stare, but he ignored it. The last thing Iruka wanted was to give another person an opportunity to question his capabilities.  
"I understand," Yamato said, to Iruka's dismay. He produced another grateful smile, nonetheless. "You've been working hard, especially since it is Kakashi-senpai..."  
"Not as hard as these guys," Iruka beamed, laughing lightly. He pointed towards the sky. "Who's up there, anyway?"  
"Ah..." Yamato scanned the sky as well, raising his hand to his brow like a visor. "Genma and Raido. They've joined in every round, since this morning. And Kakashi-senpai never turns down a challenge."  
Genma and Raido, just as Iruka suspected. After all, they were the first two qualified jounin he thought of and recommended them to be Kakashi-san's sparring partners. He wrote their names down, with a few other suggestions, but he didn't expect the Hokage to listen to him. He expected the older man to disregard any advisement he had on the matter of ability and to go about choosing based upon his own merits rather than his. But he hadn't, Iruka thought, his brow furrowing. He chose the first two names Iruka placed on the list, and it mattered. It caused the smallest sense of satisfaction to fill him, knowing that, to some degree, his opinions held some weight with Kakashi-san.  
'Or he could just not care,' Iruka considered to himself, and that small grin quickly fell south. Watching the shadows now, as they streaked across the sky in a vicious dance of agility, the chunin remained convinced that Kakashi-san would have never considered training if not to train with Shinobi at his skill level.  
"What about the other two?" Iruka asked, hearing a distinct howl amongst the trees.  
"Shiba and Guruko," Yamato answered, with a tone of good-nature. Iruka glanced at him, the amused gleam in the jounin's gaze causing Iruka's curiosity to grow. "It used to be all eight of them, until the other ninken called it quits."  
Iruka frowned. "That doesn't sound like Kakashi-sama's summons."  
Yamato shrugged, dropping his arms. "It does when they know they have no assignment to look forward to," he chuckled. "They may not look it, but they're old; older than you, me, and Kakashi-senpai combined. Kakashi-senpai's promotion translates to 'retirement' for them."  
"You're telling me," Iruka muttered, rolling his eyes.  
"What was that?"  
"Nothing." Iruka held his waist with both hands, studying the air. "Where are they now?"  
He felt Yamato's eyes more than saw them in the corner of his eyes. "They told Kakashi-senpai they were tired, they quit, and that they were going home."  
"Did they now?" Iruka shook his head, snorting a laugh away. When the senbon at his feet caught the sun's reflection, his short-lived laughter quickly died out.  
"It was a trap," Yamato said, but it didn't make Iruka feel any better, "set up by Genma. It should have gone off thirty minutes ago, but Kakashi-senpai's been bypassing the trigger. I'm guessing Guruko or Shiba set it off."  
"Not Raido?"  
"Raido was in on it. He wouldn't sabotage his own plan."  
"What about you?"  
"Me?" Yamato exclaimed, pointing to himself. "I haven't been up there for hours."  
"Well, I guessed that, Yamato-san," Iruka pointed out, quickly clarifying, "I mean I'm asking why not, I guess."  
"Oh..."  
"Yeah." Iruka smiled, glancing towards the sky again. It was easier to imagine the swift movements of the jounin up above, battling out over a large range of foliage and land, than to strike up a conversation with Naruto's team captain. Yamato was as reserved as Kakashi-san, easier company, and yet Iruka found himself at a lost for words when around the man. Their paths would cross, every so often, but usually only when in the company of others.  
"...Teaming up against Kakashi-senpai is very enjoyable," Yamato said, smiling. Through his peripheral vision, Iruka watched Yamato's arms fold over his chest.  
Iruka blinked and turned, puzzled by the jounin's response. "That's nice, Yamato-san, but it doesn't answer the question."  
"No, I guess it doesn't," he grinned. Iruka noted that the stretch of Yamato's lips reached both ends of his headgear, matching the distance of his almond-shaped eyes. "My apologies, Iruka-sensei."  
"I-It's alright." Iruka blushed. The two turned away from one another, and Iruka welcomed the impending silence. He found his fingers gently tap against the parcel in his hands, as the weight of his body wore down against the balls of his feet.  
"I wish to fight Kakashi-senpai, in a one-on-one match, some day. So when I have the chance to observe his battle strategies, as I do now, I take it," Yamato said, his smirk now permanently engraved in Iruka's memory.  
"You want a one-on-one fight with Kakashi-sama?"  
Yamato nodded. "It's trivial but, when Kakashi-senpai was my ANBU leader, it became a personal goal of mine."  
"Yamato-san!" Iruka whispered, practically hissed, his eyes shifting vigilantly about the fields around them.  
The jounin, however, was oblivious. "Whats wrong?" he asked.  
"I shouldn't know about...you know..."  
"Oh..."  
"Yes."  
"Right."  
Another bout of silence.  
Iruka was getting anxious, waiting for an opportunity to catch Kakashi-san's attention. As it was, he could barely see their movements. Every now and then he saw a flash, a sound—grunts of frustration and strain. Clearly, the only way to get any attention would have been to scream bloody murder or wait, and Iruka didn't believe he possessed the energy to yell today.  
"Yelling out would be an unconventional way of getting someone's attention."  
"To think I was just considering it," Iruka smiled. "But I guess that would be a little inappropriate."  
"For you, Iruka-sensei?" Yamato hummed.  
"...It's a last resort, only for my students, and Naruto," and the ninken, and Kakashi-san.  
When in private.  
Iruka would never think to call the infamous Copy Nin out when amongst their fellow ninja. Considering Kakashi-san's prestige, Iruka was nothing more than a subordinate, in the public eye.  
Not a friend.  
"Only your students and Naruto, Iruka-sensei?" The gleam lurking in Yamato's uniquely shaped eyes left Iruka unsettled, but he laughed through it. That the other man managed to echo his every thought was troubling enough, but Iruka chucked it down to Yamato being a jounin while he was a chunin whose emotions were easy to read.  
'Well, Kakashi-san says I'm as easy to read as one of his books,' Iruka mentally grumbled.  
"You could try flagging him down," Yamato shrugged.  
"I can wait." Iruka said, smiling the suggestion away. Never mind that he really couldn't stay here forever; that he had more paperwork and a shift in the Missions room to complete. Gaining the attention of jounin in 'Kill Mode' was not his idea of a peaceful afternoon. He just might end up on the receiving end of a sharp object were he to do so.  
"I can go up there and get his attention for you, Iruka-sensei," Yamato offered.  
"That's alright. I don't want to inconvenience you," he declined, politely.  
Yamato waved off the idea. "No inconvenience at all. I—"  
"I knew it was him!" The wind shifted around Iruka, as two hind legs and two front paws touched down on the grassy ground before him. "Iruka!" Guruko barked, waving a paw into the air. "There's no mistaking him!"  
"Guruko," Iruka smiled.  
"Alright, alright." Shiba struck the ground, front paws first, glaring at his brother. "I didn't say you were wrong. I said you were getting too distracted."  
"But it's Iruka!" Guruko frowned.  
Shiba rolled his eyes, scampering up to the chunin. "Hey, Iruka-sensei." He reached out and licked the man's clenched fingers. That's when he noticed the dark orange parcel. "Hey, what's in there?"  
"It's a mystery!" Guruko raced forward, draping his paws against Iruka's leg. Iruka flushed, glancing towards Yamato; expecting the jounin to judge this display of familiarity, but he saw only tranquility and mild curiosity.  
"It's not a mystery," Iruka said. "It's business for the Hokage-sama."  
"Hokage-sama?" Guruko looked at him strangely.  
"Yes," Iruka solidified. "Now, if only he would come down to attend to it."  
Two other figures shot down from the sky, landing side by side.  
"Well, look who it is?" Genma mumbled, rolling a senbon between his lips. "Long time no see, Iruka-sensei."  
"Good afternoon, Genma-san," Iruka greeted. Genma gave a curt nod, but his attention was taken by the two ninken circling the Academy sensei. Iruka waved to Raido, but the jounin ignored him entirely.  
"Hey, you two," Raido said, glowering at Shiba and Guruko, "get back up there. You're ruining the formation."  
"Just hang on a second," Shiba shot back, eyeing Raido venomously. "We say hello to Iruka-sensei. You got a problem with that?" The ninken approached Raido, with his teeth bare, causing Genma to smirk and Raido to back away.  
"Okay! Do whatever you want!" He looked to Genma. "I'm going back up."  
Genma nodded. "I'll be there in a second."  
"Or you'll be there now." Iruka didn't flinch, but only because his nerves were too frayed—worn out from hours of filing paperwork. Kakashi-san hit the ground without a sound, his presence overbearing. Iruka had to blink a few times, having grown so accustom to seeing Hokage robes and formal wear on the jounin that it came to a surprise to see the silver haired man wearing his jounin uniform. Iruka saw Kakashi-san glance his way briefly, before eyeing everyone else. "Maa...and here I was wondering where all my sparring partners went."  
"It's Iruka, Kakashi!" Guruko practically danced around; at least, what Iruka presumed was dancing for the ninken. He was always a fan of Guruko's limitless amount of energy but, right now, he couldn't help but envy the kind-hearted creature's liveliness.  
"I can see that." He looked to his fellow jounin. "Genma, Raido." They nodded. "Find your next position, and hit me with everything you've got."  
"Roget that." Raido leaped away, eager to resume their bout of training.  
Genma regarded him with another nod. "I'll see you around, Iruka-sensei. You got a shift tonight, am I right?" he asked.  
"Yep." Iruka confirmed.  
"Until then," he waved and winked, taking off.  
Kakashi turned to Yamato. "You coming?"  
Iruka saw the perfect opportunity.  
"Kakashi-sama," he said, stepping forward, "I have some information—"  
"Not now."  
"But—"  
"What part of 'not now' don't you understand, Iruka-sensei? I'm in the middle of training, if you couldn't tell."  
"I am well aware of that, Kakashi-sama," Iruka seethed, practically biting his tongue. He was tired and annoyed, and he refused to allow Kakashi-san's usual jerkiness get in the way of performing his duties.  
Iruka could feel Yamato watching the two of them and felt his cheeks flare up. "This is one of those matters of importance that you need to address."  
"I don't see why I need to address it now," he responded cheekily, his eye flashing towards the envelope. "Yamato, are you joining in this time?"  
"Ah..." The captain resettled against his tree. "I think I'll sit this one out too," he smiled, "but you have all day to train, Kakashi-senpai, and Iruka-sensei needs to get back to work. Maybe you should take care of this business he has for you."  
"I look at it later."  
"With all due respect, Kakashi-sama, I'm still here." Iruka's tone was biting. But it seemed as though it took every source of energy Kakashi-san possessed to spare him another short glance.  
"I am aware of that, Iruka-sensei. I can't imagine why, though."  
"Knock it off, Kakashi," Shiba sneered, pawing forward. "He's only doing the job that you asked him to do."  
"Yeah. If it wasn't for Iruka, you wouldn't even be out here," Guruko added, his slanted eyes disappearing beneath furry furrowed brow. Iruka smiled, quickly reminding himself to thank Shiba and Guruko for sticking up for him later. Maybe some beef miso soup would do the trick, or a long belly-rub. No matter the reward, Iruka was grateful to see the two ninken pacing before him, defending him.  
Still, Kakashi didn't appear to have heard them at all. "Are you two coming, or are you going to give up like the others?"  
"They didn't give up," Shiba scoffed. "They got tired of your attitude. Just because it's been a long time doesn't mean you can just—"  
"Are you in or out?" Kakashi sounded less belittling and more demanding now. Iruka knew that tone well.  
"I'm out," Shiba confirmed, turning away. "Have fun being a jerk."  
"Me too," Guruko chimed in, watching his owner with sad eyes. "I'm going home."  
"See you later, Yamato."  
"Shiba. Guruko," Yamato nodded, his oval eyes showing genuine sympathy.  
"Bye, Iruka." Guruko reached up, lapping his tongue against Iruka's fingers. Shiba did the same, before brushing up against Iruka's legs.  
"See you later, Iruka-sensei."  
"Y-yeah," Iruka breathed, his mind unraveled, but he offered one last affectionate smile before the two ninken puffed away.  
Distraught, Iruka turned his attention onto Kakashi, taking deep breaths. He was trying to overcome the impulse to just lash out at Kakashi-san and throw the parcel at his face. How brilliant that would look, written down in his Shinobi file: Academy Sensei, Umino Iruka. Age, 26. Misdemeanor(s), struck his Hokage with an orange envelope.  
With the way Kakashi-san watched him now, like he was nothing more than a bothersome head-case, Iruka thought of doing more than striking the jounin down with a few documents.  
'We're in public,' he berated himself. 'This is a Shinobi village—there are eyes everywhere. Yamato-san is here.' He felt ill, whenever his eyes shifted to the captain now. 'He probably thinks you're a joke, just like everyone who watches Kakashi-san torment me thinks I am.'  
"Kakashi-sama, I've been at your desk, filing paperwork, all day. The least you can do is—"  
"I hired you to file paperwork, Iruka-sensei. If you can't do that and leave me in peace, then you might want to reconsider your career choices."  
Iruka's control was short-lived, as always. Furious, he could have flung the parcel to the ground. "You selfish ingrate!"  
"Iruka-sensei, do I have to remind you that you're speaking to the Hokage as well?" Kakashi all but yawned, eyeing Iruka with boredom.  
Iruka felt a fire behind his eyes just waiting to be released. "Maybe I do need someone to remind me. Here I thought I was speaking to a complete ass."  
"Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka backed away, both mentally and physically, at the sound of Yamato's voice. The other jounin stepped between the two of them, until all Iruka could see Kakashi's cold, unwavering stare, the red of his own rage, and the back of Yamato's vest.  
"Kakashi-senpai...this is unnecessary," he chuckled, his shoulders bucking nervously. "It's just a bit a business. Arguing is probably taking longer."  
Kakashi narrowed his brow, glaring.  
"Then you deal with him."  
He was gone by the time Yamato stepped away, leaving Iruka to burn holes into the space Kakashi-san once stood.  
"Sorry about that," Yamato said, drawing nearer; giving Iruka a stare of sympathy similar to the one he offered Shiba and Guruko.  
"Why?" Iruka scoffed. "I don't recall you belittling me in public," he scowled, awaiting the pity that was sure to come. It didn't. He did see, however, his anger making Yamato uncomfortable. He soon dropped his glare for a softer gaze. "Thank you, Yamato-san, but you're not the one that should be apologizing."  
"I know." He smiled sheepishly, scratching the short strands at the back of his head. "I don't usually say things like this without a few drinks, but, Kakashi-senpai can be an ass."  
Iruka gaped, surprised, but he regained his senses and smiled. "That is definitely an understatement, Yamato-san."  
Yamato gave a low chuckle, and Iruka found himself doing the same. He studied Yamato, eyeing him with new-found ease.  
"Yes. I guess it would."  
Iruka sighed, looking down. "I could have waited—could have left it on his desk…Maybe I overreacted."  
"No. You didn't, Iruka-sensei." Yamato frowned, watching Iruka intently. Iruka had heard many tall tales from Naruto, about his spooky-eyed captain, and he was starting to understand the blonde's terror. "You were doing your job, trying to get Kakashi-senpai to do his job." Yamato sighed, leaning back against his makeshift tree.  
"Now I'm doing his job, with a slap to the face."  
"Think of it as a misunderstanding." Iruka stared at him, skeptical. "Kakashi-senpai isn't just any other ninja loyal to Konoha anymore. He's the Hokage now. As Rokudaime, he can't go on assignments that are not official business. Time to himself, to train and focus on his skill, is very limited. It's a Shinobi village, so our kind is never alone but, as Hokage, Kakashi-senpai is rest assured to being constantly followed. Where and how he spends his moments of freedom is important to him."  
Something in his words clicked with Iruka, but it made little difference right now. Kakashi never once shared these beliefs with the chunin; it was merely Yamato's interpretation. If anything, this insight only made Team 7's jounin captain more intriguing to Iruka. He'd never shared so many words with Yamato, in a conversation that didn't involve other people.  
"I can understand the way you see it, Yamato-san, but that doesn't change the fact that Kakashi-sama can be...an ass." He looked to the sky again, but the movements of the three jounin eluded Iruka. He didn't care, figuratively and literally. He needed to return to the office, before his work ran late and into his Missions shift. "I've got to go." He turned to Yamato, bowing. "Thank you, Yamato-san."  
"Wait, Iruka-sensei."  
"Yes?"  
Yamato dropped his arms, looking at him, causing mild discomfort in Iruka, but it was obvious he had something he wanted to say. He wasn't nearly as intimidating to talk to as Iruka once thought he was.  
"We don't see each other."  
"What do you mean?" Iruka asked.  
"We should hang out some time," Yamato tried again.  
"Oh."  
It was the only thing Iruka could think to say. They saw each other, in passing. They weren't friends, but Iruka was finding less value to the concept with every drifting second. Perhaps the lesson in need of learning was to never befriend a jounin.  
Ever.  
"I'm not sure we should," he replied, staring facedown. Surely hanging out with Yamato would include Kakashi-san, which would only give the Rokudaime another chance to belittle him in front of another. Plus, Iruka wasn't much of a drinker and, from what he heard, neither was Yamato. But Yamato enjoyed frequenting the local bars and wallowing in whatever despair being Konohagakure's wood supplier brought him.  
Iruka had enough problems of his own.  
"You'll enjoy my company, I promise." Yamato smiled. "How about a meal at Ichiraku's? My treat."  
"Your treat?" Iruka thought it over and took Yamato's earnest, eager smile into consideration. "I guess I have no choice than to accept the invitation." How could he say no to Ichiraku's? Ichiraku's ramen was the best, in Iruka's opinion, but a shortage in funds had him indulging less. The recollection left him feeling guilty for not having treated Naruto to ramen in some time.  
"So, is that a yes?"  
Iruka eyed the sky one last time. "Sure. That's a yes."  
Their courtesies were the same: a polite smile, filtering out the awkwardness of unfamiliarity. Iruka found it refreshing enough.

18:00  
"So, earlier...what was that all about?"  
Iruka heard Genma's question, was aware of the jounin's unquenchable curiosity, and decided to ignore him. That didn't stop the senbon-sucking man from turning in his seat, offering his broad smirk to the scarred sensei.  
"Come on, Iruka-sensei. You can tell me." He really couldn't. Genma was as notorious for his gossip as Kakashi-san was for his Sharingan. "You had a package in your hand." Iruka remained focused on his work, refraining from answering. "Did you and the Rokudaime have a falling out?"  
"...It was official business. I gave Elder Utatane my guarantee that Kakashi-sama would see to it."  
"Elders are always demanding insane quotas that can't be met," Genma grumbled away. "Who cares?"  
"I care," Iruka replied, reaching for a stamp. "You've got another report."  
"Eh?" Genma turned, taking a missions report from another jounin. He looked it over listlessly, then stamped it and tossed it in his pile. "Why do you call him 'Kakashi-sama', anyway?"  
"Because he's the Rokudaime."  
"I expected a little less formality from you, I guess," Genma shrugged, sitting back against his seat.  
Iruka scratched the bridge of his nose, concentrating on the statements presented before him. Only when he was certain the report was completed in full detail and proper structure did he stamp it. He looked up, giving a polite smile and a firm nod to his fellow ninja.  
"I am nothing but professional, Genma-san."  
"I know. It's annoying."  
Iruka shot Genma a glare that hardly fazed the jounin.  
"You've got another one."  
The chunin reached up, greeting a chunin with a courteous nod. Iruka felt Genma's gaze on him, examining him like a lab rat.  
"I guess I'm trying to understand why a guy like Kakashi would hire someone like you."  
"Considering the type of guy Kakashi-sama can be, I should thank you for that compliment," Iruka mumbled, lifting the report to his eyes. The sun was in a stage of setting, but he liked to use what little light filtered through the windows than depend solely on florescent lighting. It shined a bright orange against the papers in his hands, reminding Iruka that there was a world beyond the confinements of this room.  
"So, you guys are fighting," Genma cooed. Iruka sulked, knowing it was never a good sign to see that familiar smirk return to the older man's more handsome features. "Makes sense. After all, you're gone for a few weeks, playing assistant to Kakashi, of all people. The two of you are like oil and water. You were bound to get into some tiff."  
"I assure you, we aren't in a "tiff". There's nothing to tiff about. Furthermore, our differences and my new duties wouldn't strike up a fight now."  
"Oh yeah. I forgot. You guys shared the same students."  
"We never shared them," Iruka clarified. "I was their Academy sensei. Kakashi-sama was their jounin sensei and team leader. That fact, unfortunately, allowed for more acquaintanceship than was probably warranted."  
"I guess that explains why you guys see so much of one another, and why I thought you might have called Kakashi by another name," Genma continued, ignoring everything Iruka just said.  
Even in his seat, Iruka managed to snap his hands against his waist. "I call him by a variety of different names, Genma-san, but none of them are appropriate to repeat in public." Iruka slapped a hand across his face, having caught his mistake too late. He flushed a stark crimson.  
"Sounds...kinky." Genma winked, his head leaning against the palm of his hand.  
Iruka pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what I meant."  
"Yeah, I know what you meant," he agreed, to the chunin's disbelief.  
"Genma-san," he said lowly, so not to catch the attention of their co-workers and the dozens of Shinobi waiting in line. They did well to keep their conversations light and minimal in volume, and this was a conversation going down avenues Iruka would rather they avoided. But it was a provocative and unavoidable subject, one Genma would never let die. "My relationship with the Rokudaime has always been—"  
"—Professional. I get it but, for others, it's difficult to understand how an Academy sensei managed a position so close to the Hokage," Genma drawled, rolling his eyes. "I guess that's why all these rumors are flying around." It was a goading statement, Iruka knew, one that he really should have left alone.  
"What rumors?" Iruka's eyes narrowed.  
Genma clasped his hands together, as the weight of his arms came down upon their desk. "Some think it's the admiration of a chunin to a superior colleague." Genma shrugged. "Some feel that your close relationship to Uzumaki is being used as an excuse to get to know him. Whatever your motives may be," he leaned forward, "the rumor is that you're pining for the Rokudaime."  
Iruka froze.  
"How could you not know about this?"  
Iruka formed his words slowly. "How could I not know my fellow Shinobi were spreading rumors about me, making judgments about things they know nothing about? I couldn't possibly begin to know how to answer that," Iruka muttered bitterly, keeping his composure, and yet he refused to reached out and grab a stamp, for fear that his hands were shaking. He could see Genma watching him but, if he could trust that the worry in his hazel gaze was anything other than badly disguised curiosity, the chunin would not have overlooked him.  
"What, have you been living under a rock or something?"  
"No, I've been WORKING." Iruka closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he looked for his pen, anything to distract his mind, but only managed to find the Missions room staring back at him. The air had changed, growing stifling and shady. Suddenly Iruka was suffocating, under the fleeting glances and non-committal noises thrown in his direction.  
"They've even come up with a nickname for you."  
"It's a good thing I don't care, Genma-san."  
"Of course you do," Genma grinned, watching the distraught chunin. "You got another one."  
Iruka reached out to grab a report but none came, so he looked up. "Please turn in your report," he said to a ninja he didn't know by name, but he was certain their paths had crossed once before. A lapse in time compelled Iruka to repeat himself. "If you would please turn in your report."  
"I will, I will," the jounin hummed. He was tall, donning pitch-black hair that spiked in the front and was shaved in the back. "It's been a while since anybody's seen Iruka-sensei in the Mission's room. I just wanted to get a good look, just in case it doesn't last." A couple of jounin smirked beside him.  
"Your report, please," Iruka repeated, with an outstretched hand. He was trying to avoid the business of small talk with obnoxious jounin prone to making snide remarks.  
The jounin placed a hand against the edge of the desk. "What's wrong? Kakashi-sama's errand boy eager to return to his Hokage's side?" Those two other jounin, surely friends of his, laughed, as did a few other jounins and a couple of chunins occupying the same compacted space. "You're like a dog following his master, aren't you?" the jounin scoffed. "Maybe you should spend less time picking up lessons from the Rokudaime's summons and more time on doing your job."  
Iruka lowered his hand, his arm quickly retreating.  
"Such your damn trap," Genma scowled, shoving himself in front of Iruka, but it didn't matter to him. "Either give him your report or get the hell out of here."  
"Or what?" the nameless jounin asked challengingly.  
Genma eyed him dangerously. "Or I'll throw you out myself, with a few complimentary puncture wounds by yours-fucking-truly."  
"...Fine."  
Iruka heard the jounin stroll away. Given the fact that Genma was returning to his seat, the chunin had no reason to believe that his buddies were standing in his line anymore. But the damage was already done. It rippled through the room in the form of carelessly concealed whispers and bouts of sudden laughter.  
"I need to go." Iruka was out of his seat before the words even escaped him. He felt the disapproving gazes of his veteran colleagues, but Iruka was finding it easier to not care that he was abandoning his duties, let alone causing a scene.  
"Go? Go where?" Genma asked. "Your shift isn't over."  
"I know, I..." Flustered, Iruka went about tidying his pile. "I just need to step out and get some fresh air. It'll only be for a minute or so." He offered the jounin a weary smile. "Do you mind picking up the slack?"  
Genma's eyes grew wide, bewildered.  
"No, not at all. It's not going to be up to your standards, but—"  
"I don't care." Iruka shoved his seat in. "I'll be back."  
Alright then."  
It was longest stretch of room Iruka had ever seen in his entire life, but he managed to suffer through it just long enough to dodge out of the door and continue down the hall. He didn't know where his feet were taking him but it was far away from the Missions room; far away from the confusion of his colleagues, Genma's curiosity, the accusing stares and degrading laughter. Vivid memories of his Academy days started to flash before his eyes: kids laughing at him while teachers looked on with disapproval, making the ordeal all that more troubling.  
Surely, wherever he was going would take him farther than a span of a minute or so.

0:00  
Iruka wound up returning an hour later, not that this fazed Genma in the least bit. The jounin was too busy napping away a good portion of his shift while, every now and then, marking off the odd report. Iruka was certain that, within an hour, all those people once waiting in line had long since returned to their daily routine. At least then he could suffer through the loud whispers and inconsiderate laughter under feigned oblivion.  
The door handle was unusually heavy tonight, weighing Iruka down. He pressed up against the closed door and threw back his head, finding solace in the loud 'thud' his skull made with its cheap wood. And he slid, collapsing beneath his own disheartened state.  
"I didn't think you'd get home this late."  
Iruka jumped back on his feet, startled. Not even he could be so oblivious. He should have sensed another person's presence, especially one this overwhelmingly familiar. His heart raced with sudden alarm, long after he turned his gaze to the silver haired jounin lurking in his kitchen.  
"What are you doing here?" Iruka swallowed, kicking off the door.  
Kakashi-san emerged, as composed as ever. "I'm always here," he answered.  
"I can't imagine why," Iruka breathed, charging into his living room. He turned on the jounin, gripping his waist. "Get out."  
He didn't expect Kakashi-san to disappear in a wisp of smoke, just because he demanded it, but he wished he would. Never mind the minutes Iruka would waste wondering why Kakashi-san was standing in his kitchen with the lights off. Just seeing the other man did nothing to ease the ache accumulating from his temple.  
He awaited the jounin's knee-jerk response, something he learned to just accept and ignore a long time ago.  
"Maa..." A silver brow lifted into the limp strands of silver hair. "You want me to leave, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka rubbed a hand over his tired face. "Usually, when someone tells someone else to get out, it's commonly understood to mean they don't want..." Iruka pressed a fist against his lips, silencing himself before he could finish whatever this retort was. The truth was he was too tired to think right now. "This is ridiculous."  
"I agree," Kakashi-san voiced, leaning against the kitchen counter top. "I'm not going anywhere."  
Iruka dropped his hand, fuming. "Why, because you think I can't kick you out? Because I'm weaker than you? Because you're the Hokage? No, don't answer that," he added, pressing a hand into the air. Kakashi-san would answer that question, and would gladly do so with an outline of justifications. "Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter. I'll just pretend that you have an ounce of decency or respect for me and leave."  
"I respect you." Another short-spoken response.  
"No fellow Shinobi that respected me would have disrespected me the way you did today, Kakashi-san!" Iruka found himself shouting, his eyes bearing down on the impenetrable wall that was Kakashi-san's demeanor. The fact that Kakashi-san expressed no emotion—didn't even think to react only made Iruka angrier. "I've come to grips with the fact that you enjoy tormenting me, teasing me for whatever sick enjoyment, but you were never as cruel as you were today. It was pointless, when all you had to do… Had I known you were going to treat me like an imbecile, I would never come down there!"  
Kakashi nodded slowly. "What was in that envelope you needed to give me?"  
"If you want to know, you can read it yourself," Iruka seethed.  
"Ne...Where is it?" Kakashi shrugged.  
The vein in Iruka's temple throbbed.  
"At your office, you soulless ass!" Iruka snapped, pacing; punishing his living room floor. "You would know that if you went there more often, something you promised you'd do. I shouldn't be so surprised to see you don't give a damn about your obligations, but I am! I really am!"  
"Maa, Iruka-sensei." Iruka held his tongue, waiting. It would be nice to hear Kakashi-san say anything, if only to nitpick about how insensitive the response was and exhaust the rest of his anger there. Even in the dim light emitting from his mantle, Kakashi's expression was unreadable. He appeared somber; regretful, even. "It's too late to be yelling."  
"I CAN YELL WHENEVER I WANT, YOU JERK!"  
Iruka paused, his chest rising and falling. The chunin truly felt he had exhausted the last of his energy. Considering the sweat drop on Kakashi-san's brow, the man thought him more crazed than hurt, and Kakashi-san had hurt him. Iruka realized he no longer cared if the man was listening to him.  
He laughed. It was a sad laugh, one that caused his throat to constrict and go hoarse.  
"What's going on in here?" Pakkun grouched out, appearing from the hallway. He was closely followed by his fellow ninken, all of whom looked torn from a deep sleep. Ears twitched and perked, as lazy gazes shifted between the two ninja. "Iruka."  
Iruka said nothing, not knowing what to say. They looked worried. Upset. Troubling the ninken was the last thing he wanted to do.  
"Go back to sleep," Kakashi-san ordered, a look of annoyance in his eye. Finally, Iruka thought...some emotion.  
"We want to know what's going on," Urushi said, giving his owner an equally annoyed glance.  
Bull took two steps forward, with Bisuke sitting on his sturdy back. "We heard shouting...we heard Iruka—"  
"And wondered what silly thing you did this time," Bisuke grumbled, lowering his head against his front paws.  
"It's nothing. You can leave now."  
"What do you mean it's nothing?" Uhei asked, watching Iruka intently. The chunin fought to compose himself, the way a Shinobi must always compose themselves. "What's wrong, Iruka-sensei?"  
"It's nothing," he mimicked Kakashi-san's words, lowering his head. "I was...startled. That's all." He looked to Kakashi-san, unable to keep the anger from his gaze. "I didn't see him in the kitchen, and he took it upon himself to startle me and I reacted."  
Pakkun's gaze switched, back and forth. "Are you sure, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Yes. I'm fine." He smiled. "Sorry to wake you. Go back to bed. I'll be there in a few."  
Unconvinced, the ninken didn't move.  
"You heard Iruka-sensei," Kakashi-san chimed in, and Iruka couldn't help wishing the jounin would just shut up. He was tired of listening to that condescending tone, a voice dripping with self-satisfaction. Like Iruka was on his side, anyway. "Go back to bed. This has nothing to do with you."  
"Clearly," Shiba scowled.  
"I'm sure, Pakkun," Iruka continued, having their full attention. Despite being Kakashi-san's summons, the nin dogs listened to him, maybe more than they listened to Kakashi-san. They definitely listened to him a lot more than their owner did. If anyone were to feel satisfaction at this moment, it was him. "I need to talk to Kakashi-san. Alone."  
"Alright then, young pup," Pakkun said, giving Iruka a small nod. "Let's go guys."  
They left, with no questions—not even the whining Iruka expected from a rather anxious-looking Guruko. Their small pack turned away, every now and then, looking back with worried glances. Iruka held is breath during those seconds it took to hear his bedroom door click close again. He heaved a great sigh, his eyes flashing to Kakashi-san, and noticed that the jounin hadn't moved. That was normal.  
"Iruka-sensei—"  
"Let me speak. Please, Kakashi-san," Iruka insisted, seeing the movement of lips beneath Kakashi-san's mask. "You see? This is why I didn't want to be your assistant…"  
"..."  
Iruka looked away, his face burning. He couldn't keep his glare on Kakashi-san, not when the jounin's gaze fixed in stone, staring back at him. "This is why...this is why I should have never accepted..." Iruka's fell silent. The day replayed in his mind: from the joy of making Take smile, if only briefly, to the despair of this moment. He thought about that envelope, the message Lady Utatane wanted him to give to Kakashi. "Lady Utatane came by to give you the package but, had I said it came from an elder, I knew you'd only ignore it."  
Kakashi-san said nothing. It was true, however: the jounin's dislike for elders had reached an all-time high, starting with their decision to nominate his name. Any opportunity for insubordination was a good opportunity to Kakashi-san. To think Iruka felt sorry for the jounin, being forced into a position he less than desired. He thought if he could alleviate the demands of being the Hokage and make things easier for Kakashi-san, if only a little bit, than Kakashi-san would appreciate him more.  
The way a friend would.  
"She told me to hand it to you, as soon as possible."  
"Mm... That explains why you were so persistent."  
"She suggested I resign." Iruka heard something move, but he couldn't see what it was. Kakashi-san didn't seem to have moved an inch, with his hands gripping the edge of the counter. The sound must have come from the unit next door.  
"Resign from the Academy."  
"No," Iruka snapped, as the mere thought of leaving the Academy sparked a fire within him. "Resign from being your assistant. Elder Utatane believes there are more qualified individuals out there, who are more than capable to replace me."  
"Iruka-sensei..."  
Iruka started pacing again, slowly. "I've been thinking about it, and, maybe I should remove myself from this position. You obviously don't care, either way. You just need someone to pick up the slack, so you can go on with your daily routine. And I can't work like this."  
"Iruka-sensei, what are you trying to say?" Kakashi-san asked, pressing off the counter. His eyes were narrowed, accusingly, as though Iruka had said or done something wrong.  
"I should have never agreed to be your assistant," Iruka said, glaring at the distant jounin. "Even when you couldn't take 'no' for an answer, I should have said no until you gave up. You said you needed me." Iruka shook his head. "You wanted me, because it was easier to ask me than to go through the process of looking for someone else. Speak with Elder Utatane. I'm sure she'll gladly provide references for more suitable applicants."  
"Ne...I don't want another assistant."  
"You don't know that," Iruka countered, "because you've never looked."  
Iruka stopped, standing before his couch. The thought of falling against its cushions and drifting into a deep sleep was appealing. Yet he couldn't stop himself from thinking about Kakashi-san and how he'd been sleeping there for weeks.  
"Leave or stay. I don't care." He walked away, making sure to avoid Kakashi-san's gaze at all cost. "Goodnight, Kakashi-sama."  
"Iruka-sensei, wait."  
Iruka wasn't sure what made him stop but he did, with the palm of his hand pressed up against the hallway wall. He wouldn't face Kakashi-san, but something in his voice forced Iruka to stay and hear him out. If the jounin would only apologize, just this once, it would make all the difference in the world to Iruka.  
"I made dinner."  
"Eh?" Iruka turned, absolutely mystified. Kakashi-san stood in the same place, his lazy-eyed stare studying him. "You…you cooked?" Suddenly, the faint smell of food reached Iruka's nostrils. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, in his own shattered state that the delicious smell of food, the warm air of cooking, had evaded his senses. He frowned, knowing he wouldn't have noticed had Kakashi not been here to tell him.  
"Gyudon," Kakashi-san nodded, "and I left the sauce on the side, just in case." The jounin tilted his head back. "I put everything in the oven to keep it warm. Shall I heat a plate for you?"  
"It's midnight," Iruka whimpered, rubbing his temple. Iruka wanted sleep more than food.  
"Maa…are you not hungry?" Kakashi frowned.  
Iruka couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
"No," he said, with little pity. It wasn't enough. After all the trouble Kakashi-san put him through, Iruka could care less whether or not the jounin cooked. Although, very rarely was it that Kakashi-san ever cooked. Iruka had lost track of time and forgotten to eat today, but he would rather go to bed starving than let the jounin think that a meal could erase everything.  
"Are you sure, Iruka-sensei? It's steamed white rice, with miso on the side. I think you'll like it."  
"I'm not hungry," Iruka stated firmly, turning to go. "Goodnight."  
Iruka's head was spinning, but not only due to his growing headache. An uncontrollable force took hold of him, spinning him around. He stumbled back, thinking he was going to fall in the hallway, but the grip around his wrist stopped him from doing so.  
"Iruka-sensei." He could see his arm, on level with his eyesight, and the pale, deathly cold fingers wrapped around it. He felt the pressure of Kakashi-san's body up against his own and couldn't help the faint blush on his cheeks.  
"I said I'm not hungry, Kakashi-sama," Iruka said tightly. He looked up and saw what could have been fear in Kakashi-san's calculated eye, and he knew then that a lack of sleep was making him delusional.  
"You're not resigning," Kakashi said. Iruka closed his eyes to the feel of Kakashi's subtle breath against his face.  
"Is that a question or an order, Kakashi-sama?"  
Kakashi-san stepped forward, and Iruka didn't step back. He waited for the jounin to speak, trying to ignore the fingers pressing against his skin.  
"…I don't understand what I did wrong, Iruka-sensei," he said. Iruka's face dropped, a sense of defeat rushing over him. His forehead fell forward, met with Kakashi-san's solid form, but he didn't care. It felt good to rest his head, even if it was against the chest of a man he had every reason to despise. He didn't want to focus on the steady drumming beneath Kakashi-san's ribcage, but it pulsed against his brow. Iruka's heart raced, with Kakashi-san so near, but the jounin's heartbeat remained cool, collected, and as calm as the man it belonged to.  
"I know you don't," Iruka breathed and, to his dismay, managed to inhale everything that was the older man. It was a scent faintly reminiscent of fine spices, damp wood, and the night air. It was irresistible, and Iruka hated how much he enjoyed it. It calmed his nerves and made him want more.  
Then the unspoken jeers and judgmental glances of the Missions room came to mind.  
Iruka thought of Genma, the jounin's smirk, and the supposed rumors about him. He stopped caring what others thought the day he proved himself worthy of the title Chunin, but it still made him uneasy to think that his fellow ninja could speak of him in a demeaning way. He panicked when the thought of Kakashi-san hearing these rumors crossed his mind, but the feeling passed. 'Kakashi-san doesn't pay attention to such things,' he thought, relieved.  
"You really don't understand anything. That's a shame," Iruka frowned, pulling away, not knowing whether to be glad or upset when Kakashi-san released him.  
The chunin walked away, aware of that studious grey eye. It made the short tendrils on the nape of his neck stand on end. Considering Kakashi-san's habit of watching him, he thought he should have been used to it by now, but he wasn't. For the second time that day, he managed the longest stretch of seconds, sulking down the hall with his head bowed low. When he finally reached his bedroom door, listlessly pulling the door handle, he still felt the presence of the Rokudaime and his unyielding gaze watching him go.  
Chapter Twelve  
"I haven't been out of the village since then," Naruto said, gaining no response.  
The body lying in the distance made no movement.  
Naruto wasn't all that certain the other was even listening, but he continued, "Gaara's doing great, though. The Sand people really look up to him now. He's in agreements with the Rain, to make better use of their borders. If all goes well, the Wind Country will have access to better resources," Naruto finished brightly.  
He fell silent, hoping to hear a response this time and yet receiving none. He sighed, looking down, staring at the stumpy legs of his stool and racking his brain for something else to say. He spent all of his visits searching for things to discuss, lest he sit through the manic cries that echoed down from neighboring cells. What was worse, thought Naruto; he couldn't help but notice the stark difference between himself and his surroundings: he glowed like a bright orange flame, brighter than the dismal torchlight on the far corner of the hall, amidst the prison's lifeless interior.  
Light was so bleak, and Naruto found it difficult to make out his dark haired friend. But, as his eyes began to adjust, he could see the other crumbled into the bland colors of his filthy cot and prison clothes.  
"Sakura-chan is doing okay too," Naruto began again, with a smile. "She spends a lot of time at the library, helping Sai catalogue books." His face quickly soured at the thought. "They always want me to join them, but that doesn't sound like much fun to me, so I tell them no. Sai says he wants to get a better idea of human nature, which is weird," Naruto laughed lightly, his grin so wide that his cheeks pushed his eyes closed. "I guess Sakura-chan doesn't mind tagging along.  
"Actually," Naruto continued, in a sobering tone. He quickly returned to staring at his stool. "…I think Sakura-chan is still grieving for Ba-chan, and going to the library takes her mind off of…things." He looked up quickly. "We're all still grieving. I feel the same way I did when Ero-sennin died…. I feel lost, Sasuke."  
Again, Sasuke said not a word, and Naruto was not all that surprised. He busied himself with the belief that he was lost, certainly, but not alone. Shinobi of the leaf felt this way. Villagers were more alert these days, even more so than they were at the start of the war. Shinobi were wondering what would happen to their image, should another village see the Godaime's absence as a weakness. Villagers, weaker in body and mind, feared a leaderless village. Then Kakashi-sensei replaced Tsunade Ba-chan, Naruto thought mildly.  
Though he was not known for great intellect or even the sharpest mind, he knew what he felt. Naruto did not attend his jounin sensei's inauguration…to imagine the older man taking the seat of Rokudaime had been a great deal of pain to him already.  
Still he smiled sheepishly, staring at Sasuke's limp frame.  
Naruto always imagined himself as the Rokudaime of Konohagakure, and that idea made him swell with sheer happiness— made him think of the Fourth and the pride his parents would have felt to see him finally reach his goal.  
He thought of Iruka-sensei and the encouragement his Academy sensei had always afforded him. The man was the family he never had but, when he confronted the Kyuubi, his parents, and their memories of seventeen years hence, Iruka became the family he had always known. His mother and father had given their lives to protect him. Naruto figured Iruka had nurtured him the way he imagined his parents would have had they had the chance.  
The aftermath of Pain's invasion made Naruto optimistic about becoming Hokage. He imagined Iruka and how proud he would have been; Kakashi-sensei would have come to see him as a leader, and all of Konoha would have, at last, acknowledged his strength. Sakura-chan would have seen how skilled and courageous he was. Maybe her feelings for him would finally be true and maybe, just maybe, she would grant him that date he'd always dreamt of.  
Then there was Sasuke.  
In one decisive act, Naruto had given up his dream in order to take care of his friend. His bright blue eyes ran up and down the length of Sasuke's pale, nearly lifeless, body, and he sighed in exhasperation. Iruka was proud of his decisions, he knew, but the response of his friends, of his teammates, was, more or less, short of pity. Worse, Kakashi-sensei seemed indifferent, and the village, to Naruto's chagrin, had grown to despise him once more.  
And Naruto was not so naïve as to not understand this fact. The Fourth Ninja War was his fight, to protect his village. His growth had been forced the night his parents entrust the Kyuubi to reside within him. Instincts had kicked in, instincts only heightened by growing up an orphan. He knew what the village thought of him, what his closest friends thought of him. He knew what he did to bring Sasuke back was insane, and he often wondered what he would have done different that day, on the battlefield, knowing the consequences.  
But he always came to the same verdict, realizing he would have gone to the same extremes if it meant saving Sasuke from himself.  
"Hey, Sasuke, you remember that one time, when Kakashi-sensei took us fishing at nouka-san's pond? I caught a fish this big!" he exclaimed jubilantly, stretching the length of his arms. Then he dropped them. "That's what I kept bragging, at least. I wanted to impress Sakura-chan, but I don't think it worked. She spent the whole day watching you," Naruto smirked. "Neh, teme? I did everything I could to get her attention. I even jumped off the waterfall and, it would have been a long way down, if you hadn't caught me with your line." He laughed. "Remember that? Those were good times. And Kakashi-sensei was so cool back then. He's still really cool. I mean, what's cooler than becoming Hokage, eh?" Naruto shrugged. "That's pretty cool.  
"I heard he didn't even show up for his own inauguration. Only really cool guys do that," Naruto grinned cheekily. "You were always cool too, Sasuke, but I think you let it get to that big head of yours. Girls like cool guys, which is why I can never get a date!" Naruto grazed a hesitant hand through his spiky, blonde locks. "I mean, I went on a date with Hinata-chan, but I didn't feel very cool. I was a little nervous, to be honest. I mean, Hinata-chan doesn't say much, does she? I thought she was choking on her food, because her whole face went red, and she passed out before we even made it to Ichiraku's!" he laughed nervously. "When we got there she didn't say anything either. I ended up eating twenty bowls of pork ramen! I couldn't think of anything to say to fill the silence—"  
"Really? You couldn't think of anything to say?" Like a dead body rolling in its grave, Sasuke turned, slowly, his body pressing deeply into the stained mattress beneath him. "You're an expert in being an annoying idiot. You could have just kept talking, like you are now, until you killed her with your psychobabble."  
"Sasuke!" Ecstatic, Naruto leaped off the stool, an uncontrollable grin reaching across his face. At long last, Sasuke rolled over, his bleak obsidian stare clear amid the darkness. "I knew you were awake," Naruto laughed.  
"Shut up."  
"I almost ran out of stuff to say here, too…"  
"I said shut up!"  
Naruto went silent, his grin falling in the face of Sasuke's demand. Slowly, the dark haired prisoner climbed to his bare feet and slumped forward, his footsteps slapping mercilessly against the stone floor. Naruto watched nervously, his eyes fixed on the droop of Sasuke's hair. The last remaining Uchiha approached, getting closer and closer, until pale fingers wrapped tightly around the bars of his cell.  
Naruto stood back a bit, but not by much. He kept his friend's cold, deadening gaze.  
"…Why do you keep coming here?"  
Naruto chuckled, but it was a noiseless laugh. His voice was trapped somewhere in his throat, afraid to believe the illusion of Sasuke standing before him; looking at him, actually speaking to him. The blonde figured if it really was his imagination, surely that pitch black stare would be more reassuring.  
"I'm your friend, Sasuke. Why wouldn't I come—?"  
"I said shut up," Sasuke reiterated harshly.  
Naruto's face screwed up. "You teme," he barked. "You asked me a question. How the hell am I supposed to answer if I can't talk?"  
"That's the point," Sasuke scoffed, turning away. He approached, all the while glaring at Naruto. "I can't think when you keep going on about absolutely nothing."  
Naruto frowned. "I just wanted you to talk to me," he said.  
"You have succeeded." Sasuke leaned in close, his hands gripping the thick bars between them. Rust smudged into the grooves of his fingertips. "Tell me," Sasuke urged in a low, hoarse croak. "Why do you keep coming here to see me?"  
"I-I told you," Naruto stammered but managed a wavering smile. "You're my friend."  
"You have other friends." Sasuke let go of the bars, and Naruto let out a deep exhale. Even in Sasuke's weakened state, the Uchiha exerted an all encompassing presence; a dark aura strengthen by years spent in the company of very powerful and very evil ninja. Instantly, Orochimaru came to mind, closely followed by the Akatsuki and Madara.  
The thought of them made Naruto's blood boil.  
They may not have been Sasuke's friends, but they were all former allies. The Uchiha had never been very agreeable or nice, but Naruto knew in his heart that the former did not acquire this all consuming obscurity from their village.  
"I would think you had friends, by now. After all," Sasuke leaned forward, the familiar smirk engraved in Naruto's memory stretched over the prisoner's dry lips. "You are a hero now…aren't you?" Then Sasuke laughed a cold and hollow hiss that sent chills up Naruto's spine. "Forgive me, if I can't help but wonder why a hero, a dead-last idiot hell-bent on becoming Hokage, keeps coming to see me."  
"I told you: you're—"  
"Your friend. I know."  
Sasuke returned to his cot, collapsing on its edge, and Naruto thought the other looked more exhausted than he ever did curled up in that sorry excuse of a bed. Silence grew between them, and it was familiar in an uncomfortable way. Yet Naruto felt at ease, having finally heard Sasuke speak. Weeks spent coming here only to be disappointed by the other's distant silence had prepared Naruto for an onslaught of verbal abuse. There was nothing Sasuke could say or do to him that would make him leave now.  
"So then…why aren't you basking in Konoha's victory? You did say you wished to become the leader of the village one day, didn't you?"  
"It wasn't a victory, teme," Naruto replied, again using the nickname he had grown so fond of but rarely was given an opportunity to use. For years, he had longed for the day he would be able to say it again. "Many people died. It was the survival of this village, not a victory."  
"Survival…" Sasuke repeated, trailing away. He slowly looked to Naruto, his sunken face growing grim. "I understand the need to survive."  
The predetermined conversation drained Naruto of all remaining cheer. "Do you?" he asked slowly, staring into the older one's eyes. He then looked to the grimy, mildew-ridden stone beneath his feet. "It's kind of like loneliness, isn't it?"  
"What are you talking about, dobe?"  
Naruto grinned. "I always thought that was something we had in common, Sasuke." He saw something change in Sasuke's eyes: the slightest glaze of recognition in those pools of pitch black. "I saw you, in the Academy, and how alone you were. But you were better than me at everything, and everybody liked you."  
"Well, wasn't that just perfect for me."  
"It wasn't," Naruto cut in, meeting Sasuke's stare head-on. "You were as popular as I was hated, and you were still alone." He paced a few steps to the left, placing him at center with Sasuke's cell. "I didn't know it back then, but I realize now that all I wanted was people to depend on and them me." Naruto sighed, clasping the bars. His eyes veered onto a stone wall. "I guess that's what it must feel like, to have a mother, a father…a brother."  
Naruto felt Sasuke's eyes burning into him, and he welcomed the intense heat amongst the cold and dank prison walls.  
"I was born not knowing my family. I guess that's why I was so eager to see that I had one, with other people like me. You say we're different, because I never knew my parents, but I never thought we were. I just wanted what you once had.  
"So, I don't care if people think I'm a hero," Naruto said, smiling. "Whether they like it or not, they have no other choice than to acknowledge me and recognize my greatness. Konoha needs me." Naruto didn't need Konoha.  
The look Sasuke graced him with was inquisitive, but not at all dismissive or skeptical or even disgusted, like Naruto thought it might be. The older Shinobi was thin-lipped and perceptive, the unmistakable trademarks of the Uchiha descendent considering his next words.  
"…Tch. You sound a lot smarter than I remember, dobe," Sasuke muttered, rolling his eyes. Naruto grinned like a fool, watching the taller man come forward once more.  
"I've spent a lot more time around Shikamaru," Naruto shrugged, his lips upturned.  
"There… you have friends, after all. I guess you don't need Konoha," Sasuke said, hanging against the bars. He gave a smirk but an ugly one, as though his face had forgotten what it was to smile.  
Naruto stepped closer, not thinking much of it. "No. I don't need Konoha," he said, his fingers spread out and laced into the spaces of the bars.  
For the first time in months, Naruto had been granted a good look at his friend. The torchlight only softened the torture in Sasuke's physiology, outlining his gaunt features. He was nothing like the splendor that stood off against Konoha some half a year ago. Sasuke appeared far or less savage and yet still managed to preserve the dignity and quiet composure of the elite Uchiha clan. Even with malnourishment, confinement, and brutality weighing upon his shoulders, Sasuke still carried himself in a manner that Naruto was never raised to or cared to possess.  
"You look better, somehow," Naruto blurted out, not really knowing which way to go about the subject. Regardless, his unconventional broach of topic only managed to spark Sasuke's irritability.  
"The comparative addressed no point in time, idiot."  
"Eh?" The corner of Naruto's upper lip curled and his blue eyes bulged with confusion. "Why would I compare you to a point in time?" he asked, positively perplexed.  
Sasuke went blank, his tone dry. "I take back that comment about you sounding smart," he scoffed. "And here I was going to encourage you to talk more about things you really know, rather than having to listen to you talk about people and things I couldn't give a shit about. Maybe you need more exposure to that Nara kid. Better yet, you can start on that now and leave me alone."  
"You bastard!" Naruto scowled. "Did you just call me stupid?"  
Sasuke stared at him. "I guess I did, in so many words. You'd think you'd be used to it by now."  
"I'm a lot smarter than you think!" Naruto cried out, flinging his fist into the air. "Ouchie!" He squealed when he accidently hit his hand against the bars. "Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" he hopped away, waterfalls streaming down his cheeks.  
"Tch," Sasuke scoffed. "Of course you are."  
Naruto finally came back to reality, clutching his burning hand with tender care. He often got carried away, in great fervor, a trait he commonly associated with the likes of Iruka-sensei or Ero-sensei. He most likely learned it from the two of them.  
"The guards are treating me well," Sasuke said, gazing about the dark chamber. So use to staring at the solid concrete wall beside his cot, the sight was an unfamiliar reminder of his current residence.  
"Treating you well?" Naruto asked, still nursing what was certain to be a fractured hand.  
"They're starting to treat me the way they treat everyone else," Sasuke clarified. Both understood that the stretch of difference was minute but there. "They feed me my meals, they clean my quarters…they leave me alone," he finished, his voice but a harsh whisper.  
Naruto furrowed his brow, his thoughts exploring this new knowledge. Sasuke's cell was less than adequate for living in, but it was far more tolerable than the week before. That the linen cloth stretched across Sasuke's cot was there, that his prison garbs were stained but permeated with a stench of fresh laundry, and that the infested floor had been swept with half-hazard consideration, to where the prisoner would at least want to pace the ground on his bare feet, was a significant difference.  
He noticed straight off that the apparent dark red and blue bruises once marring Sasuke's exposed chest, neck, and arms were healing with time. Fresh marks of anger were non-existent. Still, Naruto was hesitant to raise the subject of what the guards were and were not doing to his friend.  
"I'm glad you're eating again," Naruto smiled gratefully, looking to his feet. He'd spent days, watching the Uchiha from outside his cell, squat on a stool, and not once did a prison guard come by to feed Sasuke his daily meals. Whenever he asked about the neglect, his time as a visitor had mysteriously reached an end.  
"I had no other choice," Sasuke grunted, his eyes hovering above the horizontal bars. "I admit; I wasn't eating. The fact that the guards didn't seem all that keen on feeding me was fine." Sasuke scoffed, his head shaking slightly. "I forgot about Iruka-sensei's temper."  
"Iruka-sensei?" Naruto breathed, his eyes growing wide. "He was here?"  
"He brought me a care package, like you did. Unlike you, he's a lot harder to ignore…adamant." Sasuke paused, staring at Naruto thoughtfully. "I thought you knew, considering it was you who asked him to come here."  
"I did," Naruto admitted.  
Sasuke nodded. "I thought you did. Still," he sighed, "Iruka-sensei's genuine concern for me is as annoying as you are."  
"Then why did you take the food?"  
"I told you," Sasuke said, his gaze narrowing. "He was adamant." He looked away. "I promised him I'd eat everything he gave me. A few days later and, suddenly, the guards are giving me my two meals a day."  
"I'm glad," Naruto stated firmly. Inside, he was bursting with relief. He went to Iruka-sensei because he trusted the older man more than anyone else in the village. He didn't know what good Iruka could do or if he was even willing to help him help Sasuke at all, but he had and with speed Naruto had not anticipated.  
"I'm curious." Apparently, Sasuke did not share his relief. "Considering Iruka-sensei is but an Academy instructor. I figured you went to him, because you could no longer fix the situation yourself. If the guards had any ounce of respect towards you or your wishes, they would have treated you and the only prisoner you visit with more courtesy. They don't." Sasuke released the bars. "I guess being a hero gives you no perks. Or maybe the guards care less about the title than you do. Regardless, your persistence went unanswered. Out of desperation, you went to the one person you trust the most, regardless of whether or not they were in a position to change anything. So either Academy senseis have more authority than I originally imagined…" Sasuke pressed close against the bars, until the bridge of his nose protruded beyond the barrier of his cell. "Or you talk about your visits to more than the one person you trust."  
Naruto was dumbfounded, for a lack of a better word. Sasuke had always been smarter, more observant than he was, but he didn't expect such sharp perception from a prisoner in Sasuke's condition.  
"I trust very few people, these days," Naruto said, images of death and betrayal flashing before his eyes. He recalled Madara baiting the weakest of their Shinobi with power and many of them died under the ruse of false promises.  
"Who do you talk to, about these visits?" Sasuke asked, his tone growing annoyed once more. He was suddenly angered and unnerved, and Naruto could not blame him. Paranoia was the cursor of a true ninja.  
"No one," Naruto answered.  
"Who else did you talk to about me?"  
"I haven't talked to anyone!" Naruto shot back, his voice rising. He didn't appreciate Sasuke's reproachful glare.  
"Teammates? Sakura?"  
"No," Naruto shook his head and adamantly so. "Not even Sakura-chan," he said. There was a rift between him and the pink haired Kunoichi, Naruto felt, ever since the end of the war. Despite their camaraderie, their friendship and his lingering feelings for her, he felt uneasy by the idea of opening up to Sakura. Whatever conversations or interactions they shared now were always tense, strained with a need for privacy Naruto could not explain.  
Naruto never brought up the discussion of Sasuke, but he could tell that Sakura wanted nothing more than to know what was happening to the Uchiha. He couldn't bring himself to say much, believing that he alone was responsible for Sasuke's wellbeing. It was his business, his ordeal to share with the Uchiha. It took him great strength and every fiber of his being just to ask Iruka for help.  
The way Sasuke looked at him now was probing, skeptical, as though looking for the truth.  
"Okay," the prisoner uttered, eventually, backing away. "In any case, you got your wish, but I don't understand how Iruka-sensei made…made them stop."  
Naruto didn't need to be told what it was the guards had mysteriously stopped doing. The evidence was clear all over the visible parts of Sasuke's body.  
"I asked no one else but Iruka-sensei for help. I told no one else but him about what they were doing to you," Naruto paused, his harsh tone at the thought of those nameless prison guards ebbing away. "I only talk to Iruka-sensei, nowadays."  
"Really…" Sasuke stared at him, an unidentifiable expression on his face. "And your other friends?"  
"That's different," Naruto said, waving his good hand dismissively. He stepped away, beginning a subtle back-and-forth pace. "They've never known how I really felt." He smiled sadly. "Unlike you, Sasuke, I try to be happy, even when there is nothing to be happy about. I try to be friendly and smile and act like the bumbling, reckless jokester everyone expects me to be. They only want to see my troubles resolved on the battlefield." He stopped, standing before the Uchiha.  
Naruto still couldn't read the expression on Sasuke's face, but as his former teammate hadn't turned away, scoffed, or disregarded him in any way the blonde had to hope that his friend understood. Given Sasuke's state of physical and spiritual health, coupled by the Uchiha's already aloof and emotionless demeanor, Naruto was finding it difficult to discern anything from the other. It was as if Sasuke was still facing the east wall of his cell and hadn't climbed out of his cot at all.  
"You're the only one I ever really talk to, Sasuke. You and Iruka. Not Sakura-chan, not eve…" Naruto stopped himself, sudden realization causing his eyes to grow wide.  
"What is it?" Sasuke asked, the guttural pitch of his voice revealing curiosity that his face simply would not.  
"You're right," Naruto voiced, "It wasn't Iruka-sensei." He looked to Sasuke, not knowing whether to smile or frown or how Sasuke would respond to either expression. So his lips quivered in ambiguity. "Iruka-sensei had help."  
"What do you mean?"  
"He told Kakashi-sensei," Naruto said earnestly. "He…he was there, in the classroom, when I came asking for Iruka-sensei's help. It would make sense too. He's the Hokage now. He'd have all the authority in the world to discipline the guards or replace them entirely." Naruto gave a toothy grin. "Iruka-sensei told Kakashi-sensei."  
Naruto waited for Sasuke to respond, but he did not. In fact, he turned away, before throwing a toneless comment over his shoulder.  
"Mmm…I wasn't aware that the two of them were on speaking terms," he replied, walking away.  
"A lot has changed, since you've been gone, Sasuke," Naruto lamented. "I'm telling you; it was Kakashi-sensei. There's no other explanation. Only a Hokage could have helped you, and since you're his former student…Iruka-sensei must have come to him, I'm sure. No," Naruto pinched his chin, "I had a feeling he would. I wanted to go to Kakashi-sensei, thought that I should have, but I didn't know how he'd respond. Iruka-sensei must have known that he would help you."  
"That man would never help me," Sasuke stated coldly. Naruto could not see Sasuke's face, but the force of his voice reverberated through his cell with rippling contempt. It echoed down the hall and into the deathly darkness beyond, mingling with the mad chants of the neighboring, high-security prisoners not but a few cells down.  
Sasuke's shoulders and arms were moving, but Naruto couldn't fathom why. He didn't recall seeing Sasuke holding anything, but it looked like he was rolling something in his hands, like a nervous twitch Naruto could not recall Sasuke having.  
"He would help you."  
"Why?" Sasuke turned sharply, anger chiseled into his stark features. "Because of all the people he tried to stop me from killing or because I tried to kill him? Iruka-sensei too," Sasuke muttered, his stare fixated on the dark abyss beyond Naruto's face. "I tried to kill him…stabbed him straight through with a Chidori. I watched him bleed and collapse at my feet." Naruto stumbled back after Sasuke rushed towards the bars, the harsh slam of his fists ringing in Naruto's ears. "I can't imagine why they wouldn't want to help me!"  
"I would help you," Naruto said quickly.  
"I don't need your help," Sasuke scowled.  
Naruto regained his footing, clutching at the same bars; feeling the icy chill emanating from Sasuke's skin. "You may not need it but, Sasuke, don't youwant it?" Naruto urged, desperation taking hold of him.  
"Time's up!"  
Naruto looked back frantically, at the sound of the prison guard's voice. They appeared in one swift jutsu, and Naruto saw their crisp grey uniform, their pocketed weaponry and their black sandals; all but their face shrouded in the darkness of the dead-end chamber.  
"There is no time limit," Naruto snapped. He was prepared to debate this fact, unwilling to believe in any restrictions on his visit. As far as he was concerned, the guards could bar him from entering Sasuke's cell, not that he had tried. Until now, he hadn't seen the point. Sasuke hadn't spoken, moved or given any other indicator that he was a great risk to anyone. Every now and then, the thought of taking Sasuke by the shoulders and shaking him until he had no other choice but to react, violently or otherwise, crossed his mind. Still, Naruto wanted to respect the personal space he believed Sasuke would want.  
"I've been coming here, for weeks now, and I've always stayed for as long as wanted."  
"That was before," the guard said, their tone strict but not forceful. In fact, he was nothing like the guards Naruto had been use to. Not once had they shoved Naruto forward or referred to Sasuke as 'Uchiha filth'. Naruto should have known that the guards had been replaced or, at least, one had been replaced. "Due to the unusual circumstances of certain prisoners' wellbeing and the insistence of new guards in this ward, a decree has been made by the Rokudaime to reinforce the time limitations set for prison visitors. In order to control prolonged exposure, of the prisoner to the visitor and vice versa, both parties are allotted five hours of visitation. It is safer this way," the guard added softly.  
Naruto practically ground his teeth. "This is bullcrap," he said. "This will just make it easier for you all to torture him and starve him to death!"  
"I assure you; this is no longer the case," the guard cut in calmly. "Any such actions made by one of our staff will be met with swift discipline. Prisoner brutality, no matter the prisoner, will not be tolerated." They bowed and quickly straightened up. "Uzumaki Naruto, your time is up. Please collect your possessions and proceed to the check-in station."  
Naruto brought no possessions but himself and the clothes on his back. He looked to Sasuke, hopelessly, but deemed his friend and former teammate uninterested in arguing his stay. Annoyed, Naruto kicked the stool at his feet, but the small stump of furniture proved to be sturdy wood. It hardly moved an inch in comparison to the immense amount of pain now throbbing in his big toe.  
"The prisoner is due to receive his first meal of the day, if this knowledge in any way benefits you," the guard said.  
Naruto looked up from a spot on the ground where he'd chosen to focus all his frustration. "It does," he relented to say. "Thanks."  
He turned to Sasuke, but the paler young man beat him to words. "Don't even think about saying you'll return."  
"I will," Naruto said, never once left having not said that he would return. "I'll come back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, until you realize that you deserve a second chance."  
"Leave," Sasuke barked, turning away.  
"I'll escort you out, Uzumaki-san."  
Naruto had no other choice but to follow the guard. He didn't know what he might have said or how he might have responded to this new decree, had it been one of the guards previously assigned to Sasuke's ward. As it was, this guard had gone far beyond the required amount of consideration. Not once did they address Sasuke, the prisoner, directly, and they respected Naruto's desires enough not to belittle them despite their higher authority. It was professional, almost indulging compared to the shady guards from before.  
Naruto looked back one last time, hoping to see Sasuke watch him go, but the Uchiha had already returned to his cot by the time he reached the other end of the hall.


	3. Chapters 13-18

Chapter Thirteen  
Perched in a tree, Kakashi waited, scanning the fields with one lazy but efficient grey orb. He thought consistently of how fine the day was for training, while rifling through the pages of Jiraiya's greatest work and only series, Icha Icha. Despite the current onslaught of weather irregularities, midday was proving to be a clear blue sky accompanied by a gentle, southern breeze. What perfect weather, he thought, for target practice. A weapon could cut through the air, undisturbed, and hit the intended target without much displacement. True, the challenge would have made for better practice, but he didn't want to get ahead of himself. It was Kakashi's hope that the weather didn't make too drastic a change, however, before each training session ran its course.  
The jounin had started the series over again, beginning with Icha Icha Paradise. Now, this was obviously Jiriaya's first novel, considering the substantial amount of mediocrity lining every page. The sentences were long and wordy, the descriptions flowery, the plot predictable, and some of the…positions of particularly heated scenes defied all physics and human capability. Still, if anyone was a fan of such blatant romanticism and melodrama, it was the Sharingan-wielding Copy Nin.  
Any moment now, he expected to see a small figure approach from off the fields, but none had come, thus far. However, he did have his book, and Kakashi had, long ago, acknowledged what a great distraction it could be.  
"Mm," Kakashi mumbled, turning another page. The restless protagonist, Hiro, managed to wander into another sticky situation. The object of his affections, a voluptuous brunette, had entered a very lavish restaurant known for its crime boss clientele. Having followed her in and confessed his undying love for her, Hiro was now on the run from Tsutomu Miyazaki, the head leader of a merciless band of swordsmen, who just so happened to also be the woman's husband.  
"I'm here."  
"Mm?"  
Kakashi looked down, finding the person he'd been waiting for staring back at him. He heaved a great sigh, snapping his book shut. With not another second to waste, he jumped down. The jounin landed beside the new arrival, whose height was so insignificant that it still left them staring up at him.  
"Maa…I was starting to think you wouldn't show," Kakashi commented. He watched the other watch him stash his book into the back pocket of his uniform.  
"I wasn't going to," Take stated testily, still eyeing the jounin with great suspicion, "but I changed my mind."  
"What made you change your mind?" Kakashi asked.  
Take avoided the question. He looked the man up and down, realizing a drastic change in the Hokage's wardrobe. "What happened to your clothes?" The boy pointed to Kakashi's face. "What happened to your eye-patch?"  
"Ne…" Kakashi looked away, scratching his scalp. "Wearing Hokage clothes is such a hassle, when training," he supplied.  
Truthfully, Kakashi couldn't wait for an excuse to not wear them. Lounging in a tree and reading his favorite novel while wearing his well-worn, standard uniform, complete with bloodstains and various other sweat and dirt marks, suited him well enough. He climbed from Iruka's couch, opted to slip on his hiate-ate rather than his eye-patch, and marveled at the familiarity he felt with its worn and battered state. He stood in Iruka-sensei's bathroom for minutes on end, staring into the mirror above his sink, adjusting and readjusting the headband to suit the requirements of his permanently bed-ridden hair. He thought of how amusing it would have been to watch Iruka barge in and force him out, had Iruka been there when Kakashi awoke that morning.  
"Tch…It doesn't look like you've been doing any training at all," Take crossed his arms, glaring up at him.  
Kakashi gave a cheeky grin and reached out, ruffling Take's silver tuffs with mild force. "That's because I was waiting for you, Bamboo Boy."  
"I told you no to call me that!" he scowled, swatting him away. Kakashi watched Take thoughtfully, as the boy stewed in his own foul mood. "That's it. I knew I shouldn't have come," he huffed, marching away.  
"Nonsense." Kakashi pulled him back by the collar of his shirt. "We haven't even started."  
Take pulled himself from Kakashi's hold. "Then can we, as soon as possible?" He asked, agitated. He pulled violently at his collar, tugging it back in place.  
Kakashi put his hands in his pockets, still watching the boy, and Take looked away, flustered, obviously uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his gaze.  
"It's a weekend," Kakashi shrugged, scanning the fields around them. "I think we have all the time in the world. You don't have class," he commented, pointedly, gauging Take's contempt, "and the weather's good today," he breathed, staring up at the sky. "So long as you return home at a decent hour, what's the rush?"  
"I don't like you," Take sneered.  
"So you've said before." Kakashi looked down, his eye beaming. "I still have no idea why. Care to explain?"  
"I'm showing up for classes… I showed up here. Are you going to teach me anything or not?"  
They stared at each other, in another stand-off, and Kakashi figured it wouldn't be their last. Mere interaction with Take set the boy off, for reasons Kakashi didn't particularly care to delve into. What interested him more was the power he witnessed, first hand, as it had expelled itself from a pre-genin's body. Kakashi knew that, at such a young age, Take's capabilities would be an endless asset to Konoha.  
"Alright then," Kakashi sighed, relenting to Take's demand, but he was certain Take didn't fully understand all that he was getting into. He turned his back towards the boy, staring off into the nearby forest.  
Take smirked, eager for whatever Kakashi had to teach him. He figured the Hokage didn't become leader of a whole village for absolutely no reason. Despite what he'd like to believe of the unabashed jounin, he doubted training with the man would be time wasted.  
"Maa, you like to play games," Kakashi uttered over his shoulder. "I like games."  
"You don't know what I like," Take snapped.  
"Maybe not everything," Kakashi said, "but actions tend to speak louder than words and, whether you like it or not, I've gathered enough about you to know that you like to play games."  
Take's hands balled into fists.  
"The element of surprise…that's something you appreciate, which is why you climbed the classroom walls when no one was looking." Kakashi looked over his shoulder, watching the boy in the corner of his eye. "You didn't want to participate in the chakra exercise not because of your partner, but because you were already aware of what you're capable of," Kakashi paused. "Not fully, of course, but you've done it before. After you threw Tsuki across the classroom, the look on your face told me that much."  
"Your point being?" Take stated coolly, his arms folding across his small frame.  
Kakashi's half-lidded gaze was unyielding. "You kept that a secret," he hummed. "I bet you haven't even told Iruka-sensei. You know what you're capable of and, yet, you say nothing—not even to show off, which tells me you're not out to prove that you're better than your peers. I think you're capable of much more, however."  
"Tell me something I don't know."  
"You bite your bottom lip when you're angry."  
"What?" Take snapped, annoyed and confused.  
Kakashi looked away.  
"I said you bite your bottom lip when you're angry. It's a subconscious habit of yours, a bad one for anyone meaning to become a Shinobi. Any display of emotion, no matter how small, will reveal your true intentions to the enemy. A Shinobi's face is vulnerable, yes, but most treacherous, so you must both protect it and watch it at all times."  
"Is that why you wear a mask?" Kakashi turned around, saying nothing, and those few seconds of unbearable silence left Take relatively subdued. He looked down towards the short patches of grass between them.  
"You enjoy the element of surprise," Kakashi started again. "It's amusing, to you. It is also a tactic rarely used well and, in your case, can be fatal. Because when you're mad, like you are now, and you allow your emotions to blind you, you get sloppy. Like when you came at me with a kunai…" Kakashi shrugged. "That was a failure. This uncontrollable anger of yours is only going to slow you down."  
Take's eyes narrowed.  
"You remember a few days ago, by the docks?" Kakashi droned on, "Ma…of course you do. I don't think I need to remind you of what happened, in order to make my point clear."  
"I'm still waiting to hear what that point is, you perv," Take seethed.  
The jounin watched the rapid clenching and unclenching of Take's fists with disdain. "You need to begin clearing your mind of everything, of all emotion: the positive and the negative. You might one day find yourself assigned to a team, alongside people you may despise but, for the success of the mission, you must put those feelings aside. Focus on what you see and what you hear, not what you feel."  
All motion in Take's hands ceased.  
"When you control yourself, you control the opponent."  
"I am in control," Take stated evenly. The boy's face was void of all emotion, expressionless, even to the anger still radiating as forcefully as his chakra signature.  
"Good," Kakashi said, although, he felt obligated to agree. He turned once again, with his back to Take. "When you fight, you'll most likely choose a strong stealth approach. That is more traditional to our profession. It's easily forgotten, these days. The Academy does very little to compensate for the loss. I'm sure you're already aware of the techniques, but the three key terms to keep in mind are ninjutsu, genjustu, and taijutsu: ninjutsu, for manipulation techniques, genjustu, for illusions, and taijutsu, for physical attacks. You will most likely rely on genjustu, but I expect you to excel in all three."  
"Why do you think I'll rely on genjutsu?" Take asked, consciously subduing his more aggressive tone.  
"You like to play games, games to outwit the enemy." Kakashi dug his heels into the ground. "The element of surprise and genjutsu will help you utilize your ninjutsu, which I think will be your strongest suit."  
"Right," Take said. Kakashi heard skepticism but little anger. He could tell Take would be a fast learner, eager to prove him wrong every step of the way.  
"Today, we're going to focus on taijutsu: your weakest technique, from what I've experienced. Questions? Protests?"  
"No."  
"Ma, are you sure?" Kakashi asked dryly, looking over his shoulder one last time. "Can you think of any other reason why I would begin your training with taijutsu?"  
"I'm not an idiot," Take huffed. "The stronger my taijutsu, the better control I have on my chakra. The better control I have on my chakra, the stronger my ninjutsu and genjutsu will be. You can't be good at just one," he ssaid. "Each technique helps to support the other."  
"Exactly." Kakashi reached for his book, aware to Take's grunts of disgust. "Now, here's where we'll begin," he murmured, flipping to the last page he'd been reading, "focused on agility and endurance: two very important aspects of taijutsu. In the end, it always comes down to whose strength lasts longer. There can be no benefit from outsmarting your opponent, if you can't even outrun them.  
"Listen to me, very carefully," the jounin mumbled into his book.  
"Yeah, yeah; I'm listening," Take remarked, crossly. "I've only been listening to you go on and on for what seems like…" the boy blinked, "…forever," Take finished. The Hokage was gone.  
He stared blankly, up at that empty space where the Hokage used to be.  
"Kakashi-sama?" Take turned around and saw nothing but a backdrop of training fields surrounding him. "Hey! Pervy Scarecrow!" he called out, cupping his mouth with the palms of his hands, but it was to no avail. There were no signs of the Hokage ever being there, not even a footprint left on the ground. "What the hell…?"  
Take's head whipped around, searching the fields frantically. He heard twigs snap and birds chirp, in the distance. The wind picked up, taking tree branches and fallen leaves along with it. Then he heard something, a faint ringing, emit from the eastern outskirts. The Hokage, however, was still nowhere to be seen.  
"Damn it!" Take cursed, taking a defensive stance. "I should have known you'd play tricks on me!" he shouted, hearing his own voice echo across the empty fields. Frustrated, Take pulled a kunai from his pant pocket. It was his only possession. He recently found it, in the forest, when a four-man squad returned from a mission. They flew out from the trees, above his head, and that's when it fell right at his feet. With not a moment's hesitation, Take picked up the weapon and ran, fearing that a member of the team would soon realize what they'd dropped and come back looking for it.  
Take had taken good care of the weapon, ever since, making sure to sharpen and polish it whenever possible. He treated it with as much care as he treated his last kunai that had been, Take recalled angrily, taken from him by the same man who had deserted him, just now.  
Staring at it, as it shined in the relentless sun, Take was reminded of how much he enjoyed owning that last kunai. Unlike this one, the other kunai had intricate designs carved into the blade and a handle that was made of wood and wrapped in leather, not ripped cloth. He cherished that other kunai and admired it whenever possible, which had not been often.  
Iruka-sensei didn't allow them to carry weapons inside the classroom, so Take always kept it pocketed at the Academy. He didn't even take it out during breaks, for fear that Iruka-sensei would appear from thin air, take it away, and scold him for having it. He truly believed that his sensei had eyes, everywhere, and so did everything in his power to obey Iruka-sensei's rules. He didn't want to upset Iruka, especially since his fondest memories revolved around the Academy instructor visiting him on a regular basis; treating him to meals and outings. Iruka-sensei spent more time with him than any of the other kids, and Take didn't want that to change.  
That's why he'd been so hesitant to agree to this, in the first place. Take frowned at the thought. He hated to think of what Iruka would do, if he knew that he was taking private lessons from the Hokage. Would he be angry? Take wasn't sure but, with how secretive Kakashi-sama was being about the whole thing, he guessed that, maybe, this was something the other man would certainly disagree with.  
"You're gonna get me into trouble and all for nothing!" he spat out, addressing the thin air. "You took my kunai, and now you're going to get me into trouble," he murmured this time, his hand gripping the kunai even tighter. The memory of a few weeks ago resurfaced in vivid detail. He could see the faces of his peers, watching as the Hokage held him against Iruka's desk. A sea of timid gazes and reproachful stares watched as the Hokage restrained him, held his own kunai up against his throat, and embarrassed him in front of the whole class.  
It was more than Take could bear.  
"Well, screw you!" Take shouted, shoving his kunai back into his pocket. "I'm tired of playing your games." He heard a distant jingle again and whirled around. Take peered into the maze of trees and shrubs on the edge of the field, quick to pinpoint where that annoying ringing was coming from. It sounded almost like…bells.  
'Listen to me, very carefully.'  
Take sped off, in the direction of that sound. He could keep track of it, more distinct than before. He took a brief glance back, to where he found hissupposed trainer lounging in a tree, but not because he expected to see anything different. Iruka-sensei had once taught them about distance tracking: making note of where you started, before going after the enemy. It also helped to indicate distance of sound, which seemed to be the only thing Take was meant to focus on. Just having breached through a few clusters of trees, he could gather that the noise had come from not but a little farther from where he was now. Take smirked to himself, speeding onward. He heard the ringing again, now a jingle to his ears. It was egging him along, as though this was nothing more than a game of 'Hide and Seek'.  
"Unbelievable," Take murmured, shaking his head. A grown man, the leader of their country no less, was treating this like some child's play. Is this really what he signed up for?  
Did it really matter?  
After all, Take was playing along.  
'Maa, you like to play games. I like games.'  
Take like to win more. With that in mind, he kept running, every now and then, kicking off a tree stump or a large boulder, to give him more momentum. He wasn't yet skilled in the art of chakra-induced flash-stepping. Sure, he proved that he could distribute his chakra enough to hold himself against a solid surface, but, had the object of the lesson been to learn how to chase an enemy or keep up with a team, Take would have fallen short of impressive.  
'There can be no benefit from outsmarting your opponent, if you can't even outrun them.'  
Take could run fast, faster than anyone in his class. Iruka-sensei always said it was his greatest strength, although he never said how his greatest strength could be best used.  
'Ninjutsu, for manipulation techniques, genjustu for illusions, and taijutsu for physical attacks. You will most likely rely on genjustu, but I expect you to excel in all three.'  
Take heard another jingle, to his right, so he pushed off against a nearby tree and rushed towards the new direction. Every now and then, other sounds would take his attention: the rustle of leaves, the breaking of branches…they were distinct, outstanding sounds. They couldn't possibly be sounds made by accident, like the sounds a roving animal might make. They were made purposely, to throw him off track.  
"Nice try," he muttered, looking straight ahead. He heard another jingle coming from the left and so made another sharp turn.  
Every few seconds, another misleading sound would resound from the right of him, the left of him and, sometimes, behind him even. A few times, he was forced to dodge, lest he be hit by an object hurtling towards him, at speeds his eyes couldn't keep track of. It was only when he felt a gooey, wet substance dripping down his cheek did he realize that some small weapon had whizzed by and sliced open his cheek.  
"You bastard!" he yelled out, rubbing angrily at his cheek. It stung. The perpetrator retaliated to his cry, sending an array of weapons his way. Take continued to run, however, dodging trees and weapons alike. He pushed off another stump and caught sight of a shuriken as it flew by his head and embedded itself into the bark. He flipped and changed his direction, as the jingles now drifted from the right. To his satisfaction, they were getting louder and more pronounced.  
He could hear water. Take could think of only one body of water remotely close to the area, and that was the river. He set off in its direction, as the distant jingle coincided with the water rushing downstream.  
The dense forest was reaching its end, and he could see another clearing not too far away. Take knew this area of Konoha better than any other kid he knew. They were all scaredy-cats, cowards that wouldn't dare go so far into the forest for fear that they wouldn't be able to find their way out. Take even set traps, a few trip wires and false steps that were modeled after a few he found already set up in parts of the area. He never saw anyone in the forest long enough to know who set the original traps, but Take made sure to imitate their sophistication. Now when others unfamiliar with the land wandered in, Take could catch them, unawares, and take whatever fell behind.  
Take kept vigilant, as the Hokage's tricks evolved. The young boy was seeing figures, all around him; all the same height and same build as the Hokage. They traveled in intervals, throwing weapons whenever they could, before switching off. "Damn it!" Take cursed, forced to slow down in order to avoid being hit. Still, there was only one shadow equipped with that jingle, so Take never once lost sight of what he was after.  
He was so close, he could feel it. There was a clear opening, just a few meters away, and he rushed towards it with full force. He reached out, certain that the culprit was just ahead of him. That's when he saw it: the sunlight bouncing off of two bells that hovered ahead of him.  
"Gotcha!" He leaped out and grabbed for them, only to snatch nothing but air. "What the…?" Take ducked, missing a bodily attack by a hair's length. He rolled over, dodging another swing. It was a well planned maneuver, he thought, considering the low kick that was aimed to trip him over. He managed to jump away and land on his feet, knees bent, with his hand clawing at the ground.  
He looked up to find the Hokage standing before him, two bells dangling from his fingertips. His other hand dutifully pinched his novel between his thumb and index finger, a book that Take had no doubt resembled the one Kakashi-sama had been reading in their class, both in content and tastelessness. What annoyed Take the most, as he stood from his crouched position, was the fact that the Hokage showed no indication of having attacked him at all. The jounin appeared relaxed, with one leg crossed over the other, as though he'd been waiting for him to arrive the entire time.  
"Your fast," Take exhaled, catching his breath.  
"You're pretty fast, yourself," Kakashi said, crossing his arms. "Were you not so distracted, you might have caught me."  
"I was not distracted!" Take snapped, brushing himself off. "Besides, you set me up to be distracted. You set out clones and weapons."  
"You think an opponent would lead you along, without a few tricks of his own up his sleeve?"  
Take refused to respond, the answer being too blatantly clear.  
"Remember this, as your first lesson: you're not the only one out there who is eager to play games."  
Kakashi unfolded his arms, stashing his Icha Icha into his back pocket once more.  
"Come on," he said, walking away. Take eyed the man, distrustfully, before following along.  
Take had heard correctly – the river lie not but a few feet away. He fell into step, behind the Hokage, as the man led them across a sturdy bridge that arched over the water. Take looked over the side, staring at his reflection. It rippled away, when a fished poked its head out and disturbed the surface.  
"Where are we going?" Take ordered more than asked.  
"You'll see," was the Hokage's reply. He didn't even turn back to look at him.  
"I thought you said we were going to train in taijutsu, today." Take frowned, glaring at the back of Kakashi's head.  
"We are," said Kakashi.  
"So," Take shrugged, "when are we going to fight?"  
"Ne…there's no point in you fighting me, just yet. My skills being far superior to yours, it would only do more harm than good. The handicap is far too great to be considered a lesson worth teaching."  
"Is that right?" Take scowled, wanting nothing more than the opportunity to prove the Hokage wrong.  
"Meh, it's not right," Kakashi murmured. "It's fact. I agreed to teach you, not to harm you."  
"And this isn't harming me?" Take bellowed, pointing at his bloody cheek.  
Eventually, Kakashi turned back to see what it was the boy was referring to. There, on his right cheek, was a shallow gash crusted over with dry blood. Kakashi kept his lazy gaze honed in on it, dismissively, considering he could think of a thousand other injuries more fatal than the mere abrasion.  
"That's not harm. That's growth," Kakashi shrugged, turning back and walking away. "The more training you complete, the stronger you'll become. The stronger you become, the more interesting you'll get."  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"…It means I'll want to fight you," the jounin put simply.  
Their trek was relatively short, in comparison to the long afternoon ahead of them. The Hokage and his, arguably, reluctant student travelled down an open trail, passing by acres of farmland. Take presumed that this was part of the training, labeled under "Endurance", and so kept his mouth shut. He stepped in stride with the Hokage, staring up at him thoughtfully, but the man said nothing, keeping his gaze straight ahead.  
"Where's Iruka-sensei?" Take asked, watching the Hokage intently.  
"Your guess is as good as mine," Kakashi replied.  
Take looked to his feet and their respective progression. "Does Iruka-sensei work for you?"  
"Maa, I'm the Hokage," Kakashi drawled. "Everyone works for me."  
"Does Iruka-sensei work with you?"  
Kakashi looked down, watching the boy with some consideration. "Iruka-sensei helps me," he said, glancing off into the distance.  
Their destination was not too far off now, just on the other end of the marketplace. The marketplace, itself, stood a few miles north of where they were.  
"Iruka-sensei is probably at the office, as we speak," Kakashi said, not entirely certain that this was true. As he recalled, once more, and with inescapable curiosity, the chunin had been nowhere to be found when Kakashi woke up that morning. His ninken had been unfairly dismissal about the occurrence, as well, stating that it was "None of his business" to know where Iruka-sensei went.  
"What does he do there?" Take asked.  
"He does paperwork, mostly," Kakashi sighed, looking towards the boy. "He files paperwork and takes notifications. When another village sends out a messenger, he receives their business."  
"Isn't that what a Hokage is for?"  
"Eh?" Kakashi scratched the back of his head, addressing the boy with an uneasy stare. "Not every Hokage is willing to deal with the…paperwork," the bureaucracy, or the political stigma attached to the position, like a diseased lesion. "A Kage's role, first and foremost, is to preside over a village and keep it safe. Besides, Iruka-sensei does well at sorting out that other stuff." Kakashi thought back to all those hours spent lying on Iruka's couch, watching as the chunin sat at his desk and eagerly hummed his way through a stack of papers. "I think he enjoys it a lot more, as well," Kakashi could tell, no matter how much Iruka complained about having to pick up his slack.  
"You don't enjoy it?" Take asked.  
"I'm more of a field expert," Kakashi replied vaguely, growing weary of answering questions.  
"Then why did you become Hokage?" Take spat, as though the mere title offended him.  
Kakashi hunched forward, reaching into his pockets. The two walked a bit farther, but in silence. Every now and then, Kakashi found his eye wandering downwards, watching Take with fleeting stares of uncertainty. Take was staring at the ground, with his hands shoved into his pockets as well. He was wearing the same worn, dirt-ridden clothes as a few days before. Not that it took a brilliant mind, but years spent on a day-to-day basis with a young Naruto made it easier for Kakashi to tell when a young boy hadn't bathed regularly, let alone changed his clothes. Considering how the same shirt and pants hung on his shoulders, barely outlining his waist, Kakashi could tell that Take didn't eat much either. Or maybe, the jounin frowned, he couldn't.  
"I didn't have a choice," he answered, catching Take's stern stare.  
"What do you mean you didn't have a choice?" Take sneered, "You either wanted to be or didn't want to be: yes or no. How hard is that?"  
"It's complicated," Kakashi said.  
"How so?"  
The Hokage paused, standing in the middle of the road, and Take stopped beside him.  
"When the country hands you a responsibility, it is not something that can be easily dismissed. You do what is asked of you, because it has to be done." Kakashi looked the boy up and down, aware that he had Take's undivided attention. He truly was working out to be a good listener. "Do you understand?"  
Take crossed his arms and walked away.  
"Tch," he scoffed. "I didn't think being a Kage was that great, anyway."  
"Mm…really?" One step forward and Kakashi's footsteps were in sync with Take's again. "How do you figure?"  
"Kages kill people." Kakashi's steps halted again, but Take kept going. The jounin watched him go, momentarily startled.  
"Stop."  
"Why?" Take turned.  
Kakashi tilted his head towards the right. "We're here."  
Take looked to his left, seeing nothing but a field of golden-bronze. In fact, the silky strands blowing in the wind existed on both sides of the trail. In the distance stood a series of buildings, many well-known complexes that remained standing, for centuries, on the northeast region of Konoha. Take never had any reason to venture around this side of the village.  
"Here? What's here? It's a crop field," Take scowled, weary of the unfamiliar fields and the unknown housing structures.  
"It should be a crop field," Kakashi murmured, his gaze grazing the land idly. "I don't remember it ever being anything else." He reached up, with his palm faced outward, motioning for Take to step off the trail. "Head out towards the center of the field. That's where your practice will begin and end."  
Take looked skeptic. "Are you kidding? We can't train on a crop field."  
"It's fine," Kakashi said firmly. "Now go." Reluctantly, Take marched off, leaving Kakashi to stroll behind. He briefly thought back to what the boy had said and disregarded it as naivety.  
'Kages kill people,' Kakashi repeated mentally, as though Kages were an entirely different species. People killed people. They lived in a Shinobi village, where a little over a couple thousand were trained to kill at a time apart. There was no reason for Kakashi to feel disgruntled over Take's words. Death was a part of being a Kage—killing was not a privilege but a necessity. Kakashi knew this to be true, learned it firsthand. Hearing the cold, hard fact from a pre-genin should not have surprised him so.  
But a lingering chill managed to brush up against the nape of his neck, forcing the fine short silver strands of hair there to stand on end.  
Take turned, his hands gripping his waist. "What the hell is this?"  
"Ma…"  
Kakashi scratched the back of his head, staring at the figure perched in the center of the field. It was stiff and lifeless, but obviously modeled to look as human as could be. Donning hair of straw that stood on end, a thick branch for a spine, with lines of black wool knitted into its patchy face, it stood a good two meters off the ground, supported, from the ground up, by a thick plank of wood.  
"It's a scarecrow," Kakashi remarked, although he thought that was obvious.  
"I know what it is," Take chided. "I mean why?" Take stepped closer, staring at the figure with a glare that could rival any one of which he granted Kakashi. "Is it wearing your clothes?"  
Indeed. The scarecrow was wearing Kakashi's Hokage robes, his pants, his shirt wrap, his shin guards; his eye-patch, even, along with an assortment of red and white targets that had been pinned on to where specific parts of the body would lie. It was fashioned to look like an exact copy of the Hokage, in build and accessories. Kakashi even gave it a makeshift body suit and mask to cover the lower half of its face.  
Take turned to Kakashi, disgruntled. "What am I supposed to do with this?"  
"This scarecrow will act as your sparring partner, for the foundation of your training. Then, when and if I feel you have progressed in some way, you will spar with me," Kakashi said, standing before the scarecrow. The resemblance was uncanny, with the scarecrow's slight height advantage a clear exception, coupled with its misfortune of being made entirely out of twigs and straw. "These targets," Kakashi continued, pointing towards one of several medium-sized circles that littered his doppelganger, "will serve as marks, to perfect your aim. When I feel you have succeeded in a particular move, you'll move on to another one. Got it?"  
Take agreed without a word, eyeing the scarecrow uneasily.  
"I thought a practice dummy resembling myself would prove an efficient…motivator," Kakashi explained.  
"Right," Take nodded.  
Kakashi beamed with his one visible eye. "The warm-up exercises they have you do at the Academy."  
"What about them?"  
"You'll warm-up first," Kakashi said, "starting with a mile run."  
"What, here?"  
"Yes, here…"  
Kakashi scanned the area, noting the perfectly four-pointed corners on either side of the trail. He knew the area well, down to the small markings on the stone wall that had served as indicators some time ago.  
"Take the right field. Four times around should equal a mile. Head back to the trail and start your run."  
Take nodded, racing back towards the trail. Kakashi kept his eye on him, all the while spotting the nearest tree to use as a post. He did have an Icha Icha series to get through, and the first novel of the series wasn't going to finish reading itself.  
Take went about completing his warm-up, which consisted of a run and a few in-place exercises. Iruka-sensei made them do this whenever they went outside for target practice.  
Kakashi knew these exercises to be standard issue for all pre-genin. He kept a keen eye on Take's progress, making sure that the boy performed each exercise with accuracy. It was necessary to know whether or not Take learned things in the correct manner or simply performed them because it was asked of him. These things were vital to the training process, as Take's participation was still something of an oddity to him.  
"Again," Kakashi called out.  
Take took another shot at the scarecrow, swinging a kick at its shoulder blade.  
"Again," Kakashi bellowed, and Take repeated the movement.  
Kakashi demonstrated a few moves, using them against his scarecrow replica, before returning to his post. Take watched him, intently, and, with another nod, went about performing them in sequence.  
"Again," the Hokage said, and the boy didn't miss a beat. He was focused, with a determination Kakashi hadn't seen in someone so young since…himself. The day wore on and, by late afternoon, Take's movements had grown weaker, with each attack slower than the next. Kakashi looked over the top of his book, watching and listening intently as Take's fists and feet made impact with his scarecrow. The jounin was near the end of the first book, already. Not that Jiraiya was one to write lengthy novels, to begin with. His cut and dry prose made the Icha Icha series a fast read, especially for an avid fan who had already read the books more times than it was probably necessary to count.  
Kakashi put it away.  
Take gripped his knees, hunched over himself with exhaustion. He breathed deeply but kept his gaze upward, glaring relentlessly at his inanimate sparring partner. The whole time, he thought of the scarecrow as the Hokage, just as Kakashi-sama had intended. Knowing full well that it was nothing more than a bunch of straw draped in Hokage clothes, Take continued to think of it as the real Hokage and, for that, his attacks were a lot stronger. He collected and repositioned himself, forming a quick combination of the same three moves to exact on the same three targets on the left side of the scarecrow's body: the pectoral girdle, the pelvis, and the patella.  
"Gyahh!" Take yelled out, aiming for the collar bone. However, in his worn out state, his coordination skills had drastically diminished. Unable to stop himself, he accidently took a swung at the scarecrow's face.  
"I think we can call it day, now," Kakashi said, coming up from behind. He caught Take's wrist and set the boy down, before he could ruin his scarecrow's flawlessly knitted features. Take fell to the ground but quickly got back up, charging the scarecrow. "I said cool it."  
"Again!" Take growled, taking another swing.  
"No. Not again. You're done." Kakashi held him back with one gloved hand. Take fought against him a little while longer before, eventually, settling down. "Come on," Kakashi said, guiding him over to the tree.  
Take shrugged him off and walked away, leaving Kakashi to follow behind. The Hokage wouldn't admit to not yet getting a clear understanding of what the boy was all about, but he felt a bit of prying couldn't hurt.  
"I thought you said you didn't care."  
Kakashi immediately caught his own thoughts and quickly reminded himself that he could care less what Take was all about. Regardless, there was the chunin standing before him, doing little to conceal his disbelief. Kakashi couldn't bring himself to look beyond that face, the fond consideration Iruka reserved for him.  
"You're not as bad as you think you are, Kakashi-san."  
The jounin stood over him now and watched, as the boy collapsed against the tree's thick roots.  
"Mm…you good?" Kakashi asked.  
Take grunted a response.  
"You did well," Kakashi added, but Take looked up, his eyes wide and piercing, and said nothing. He pulled his legs up, resting his arms against his knees. "I took a good look at that scarecrow," the jounin continued, reaching back to rub the nape of his neck. "Ne…you really did a number on me, didn't you?"  
"I did what you told me to do. The better I get, the faster you'll teach me something good, right?" he sneered, but his voice was lacking its usual biting tone. He was too exhausted to be a snobby brat, Kakashi gathered. That was just fine with him.  
"Earlier, you said you almost didn't show up."  
"Yeah," Take breathed.  
Kakashi turned, pressing up against the trunk. "What made you change your mind?"  
"It's not a 'what'. It's a 'who'," Take clarified.  
"Who then," Kakashi said.  
Take looked up, his hazel orbs pressed up against his eyelids.  
"Iruka-sensei convinced me to come," he exhaled. Kakashi pulled his self up, his eye bulging, but Take shook his head and added quickly, "It's not what you think."  
Take watched the Hokage sigh and slowly close his eye; relax and fall back against the tree. Now he seriously wondered what kind of trouble he'd be in, if Iruka found out about any of this.  
"He came by the Academy, the other day. I asked him about you."  
"And what did he say?" Kakashi asked, although, he was hesitant to know.  
"He said that…you're one of the greatest Shinobi, of our time. He said that you're brilliant," Take exhaled deeply, his eyes falling to the ground. "He said that you were vital to ending the war and that the violence ended, partly because of you."  
Kakashi's eye went wide, even his Sharingan.  
"You seem very secretive about our training meetings, Hokage."  
"That's because they are secretive," Kakashi said, his mind fixated on Take's last words.  
"He said that you're brilliant…you were vital to ending the war and that the violence ended, partly because of you."  
"So no one can know?" asked Take.  
Kakashi eyed Take wearily. "Is there anyone, in particular, you wanted to tell?"  
"No," Take said sharply. "I just want to know why Iruka-sensei knowing scares you."  
"It doesn't." The two glared at each other, with Kakashi relenting first. He refused to encourage these stand-offs, any longer, especially since Take seemed to always have the upper hand. He was the Hokage, for goodness sake, accused of being scared of an Academy sensei. Kakashi had never heard something so far-fetched. "Telling Iruka-sensei would be a very bad idea."  
"Really…?"  
"Yes. He's concerned for all of his students, but he's most protective of you. If he finds out, these training sessions cannot continue."  
"Why not?"  
"They just can't."  
Take glared at him, unsatisfied with his clipped response. Kakashi didn't feel all that obligated to elaborate, however.  
He gave the boy a few more minutes to collect himself, focused on his erratic breathing. It evened out at a measured pace, which was a positive indicator. With no water and little rest in between, Take had recuperated at a relatively fast rate. Kakashi looked towards the setting sun now, but remained concentrated on his young charge. The sky was transitioning from a clear blue to a cloudy, pinkish orange hue. The wind had picked up with speed. Kakashi couldn't recall the last time he'd seen the wheat fields so lively, but it was nearly time to go.  
Take wiped the cold sweat from his brow and brushed it on his shirt.  
"Here," Kakashi said, reaching into a vest compartment.  
"What…" Take snapped, looking up to find a familiar, sharpened edge dangling above his head. He reached out and grabbed for it, pleased, this time, to find more than thin air in the palm of his hand.  
"Try using it more effectively, next time."  
It looked exactly as Take remembered it; perhaps, a little better, even: professionally sharpened and professionally polished. The leather had been tightened and the engravings cleaned. It glowed like gold, in the sunset. He quickly pocketed it.  
"Maa…I'll trade you," Kakashi murmured. Take stared at him, saying nothing, but slowly pulled the other kunai from his pocket. He handed it over to the jounin, who took time to pocket the battered piece of metal.  
"Thanks," Take mumbled, looking away.  
"I want to show you something."  
"What?" Take climbed to his feet.  
Kakashi walked towards the center of the field, aligning himself with the scarecrow. He drew out his hands. His movements were fast, faster than any human eye could register, which is why it didn't matter whether or not Take saw the specifics. But he could hear the young boy moving around behind him, circling to see what was happening. The jounin raced through a short series of hand seals that were almost an extension of his fingers: ox-rabbit-monkey.  
"What is that?" He heard Take asked.  
Kakashi could see him standing to the side. There wasn't much that could break his concentration, however. He held his wrist and right hand down, as an excitement of electricity exploded from the palm of his hand.  
"Incredible…"  
Kakashi charged forward, accounting for a minor disadvantage. With his veteran control, however, he saw the distance between himself and the scarecrow as no real obstacle. Kakashi allowed the sound of static current and chirping birds to fill his eardrums, as his hand cut into the air. Not a millisecond later, and his scarecrow counterpart was cowering before him. Kakashi had impaled it with the sharp, electric blade at his fingertips. The Raikiri had electrocuted it, from the inside out, causing it to smoke from the gaping hole now left where its midsection used to be.  
The jounin turned, his hand still a piercing blue glow of high voltage, and Take stared back at him, his face slack-jawed and nothing short of amazed. Eventually, the familiar electric spikes, stabbing him mercilessly, disintegrated, returning Kakashi's calloused hand to its normal state. But the same could not be said for the scarecrow now dependent on the wind to put out those small embers that had been ignited by the scorched fibers of his Hokage robes.  
"What was that?" Take stared, speechless, as Kakashi strolled back over.  
"That," the jounin paused, looking back to that torched version of his self, "was the Raikiri, an offspring jutsu to the Chidori. Both are types of lightning release ninjutsu and short-range attacks."  
None of this information seemed to register with Take, though, who continued to gawk at him.  
"…I created them," Kakashi finished. He then sulked, as it just occurred to him that that small demonstration now left them in need of another practice dummy.  
"You made that?" Take asked.  
"You sound impressed," Kakashi noted.  
"Tch," Take folded his arms, looking away pointedly. "Don't sound so full of yourself."  
"Is that something you anticipate learning?" Kakashi asked.  
"…Yes," Take muttered, but he kept his gaze averted.  
"You will, one day." Take turned back, with wide eyes. "…You spent a good five hours out here, today. You warmed up, exercised, and practiced the moves I showed you. Not once did you take a break or feel the need to replenish yourself in any way." Kakashi tapped his chin with an index finger. "This tells me you have an extensive source of chakra; an amount so great that you're barely even aware of it."  
"Does that mean I'll be able to do what you just did?" Take asked, but he made sure not to sound too overly enthusiastic about it.  
Kakashi nodded. "You might. It depends on how often you train, how focused you are, and how fast you progressed. Lightning may not be your element but, with the strength of your chakra and its abundance, I'm certain you could be taught a variation of the technique."  
"Element?" Take paused at the term, recognizing it from somewhere. He thought he might have remembered Iruka-sensei instructing them on elements and manipulating chakra in this way, but he couldn't be certain. "You mean using nature and chakra."  
"Another day, another day," Kakashi waved. "It's time to head back," he said, returning to the trail. Take followed close behind.  
"How did you make that?"  
"The Chidori?" Take nodded. "Maa…I don't remember," the jounin lied.  
"Could I make my own techniques?" Take asked.  
"Maybe. Maybe not. It depends," Kakashi sighed. "I was a bit of a boy genius, myself."  
"So you created it, when you were young?"  
"A little older than you," Kakashi replied, "but not by much."  
"What is this place?" Take whispered, looking around.  
Kakashi did the same but very briefly. "The surrounding area is entirely farmland. The structures, you might have noticed, make up a compound…a residential one."  
"A compound?" Take repeated, confused. "I didn't see anyone or hear anyone."  
Usually compounds consisted of large families, noble families that went about daily, routine chores. If it was a compound, as the Hokage suggested, then shouldn't Take have heard the sounds of a bustling clan: children at play, parents at work, and people generally appearing around the area? Take saw only abandoned buildings, surrounded by farmland. He heard no sounds from beyond that large stone wall and never once saw anyone or anything come out from behind those heavy wooden, iron plated gates.  
"There was a clan that once lived here," Kakashi supplied, "known for being the village's first farming family. Their techniques were renowned and their produce most desired. Then, somewhere down the line, they became an established Shinobi clan, giving birth to some of Konoha's most legendary sons and daughters."  
"Where are they now?"  
Kakashi picked up his pace, and Take did the same.  
"Maa, it's getting late," he whined softly, staring up at the sky. "I need the two of you to return, before it gets dark."  
"The two of you?" Take reiterated, perplexed. His face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean 'The two of you'? I'm the only one here." He pointed to himself.  
Kakashi stopped dead on the trail, turning towards a cluster of nearby trees. He reached into his vest pocket and threw out a shuriken, hearing it crack against one of the tree's bark. There was an instant shriek, before a small body fell from the broken branches and landed on the wild hedges below. Take rushed over to see who or what it was, as it climbed out of the bushes, howling with an "Ooh!" and "Ouch!" every so often.  
"What the hell…?" Take fell short. There was no mistaking that rich, dark red hair. "Tsuki?"  
"Mmm," Kakashi nodded, watching the other boy climb to his feet. "I noticed him following us, earlier. He was trailing behind, at first, but he's been here, this whole time." Tsuki groaned, rubbing his battered head. "He fell asleep, most likely."  
"You…idiot!" Take grabbed Tsuki by the sleeve and pulled him forward. The older boy complied, too disoriented to resist. "Why did you follow us?" He looked to the Hokage, infuriated. "Why didn't you say anything?"  
"Maa…" Kakashi sighed, combing his fingers through his silver strands. "I didn't think he'd be of much harm."  
"He could tell Iruka-sensei!"  
Kakashi hadn't thought of that.  
"I won't! I promise!" Tsuki insisted, shaking his hands. He looked to the Hokage. "I didn't see much, I swear! I fell asleep!"  
"I believe you," Kakashi said.  
"Why did you follow us?" Take asked again, pushing the other boy away.  
Tsuki readjusted his dark green jacket, zipping it up against the cold. "I thought we could hang out today, so I went looking for you," he explained. "Then I found you on the training fields, but you were already talking to the Hokage."  
"Why didn't you reveal yourself then?" Kakashi asked, amused.  
Tsuki bolted together, bowing. "I'm sorry, most awesome Kakashi-sama! I didn't want to interrupt your meeting. It seemed…secretive."  
"It was, you loser," Take huffed, turning away. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"  
"W-well…you're always alone." Tsuki frowned. "I just thought we could play together."  
Kakashi observed Tsuki. He did not appear malicious enough or so untrustworthy as to warrant Take's temper. There was something so innately pathetic about Tsuki that Kakashi couldn't resist intervening on his behalf.  
"Maa…It's alright, Tsuki. Take's taking private training sessions, and I'm his instructor," he said, ending the long silence between the two boys.  
"Are you insane?" Take turned on him, furious. Kakashi recalled being Take's age, his height and small stature. He probably appeared as pitifully nonthreatening as well, at that age. "Why are you telling him that?"  
Kakashi looked between the two, thoughtfully. "Tsuki could be of some use. If he manages to keep up with the training regime, he'd make a far better sparring partner than a scarecrow."  
"He can't keep up!" Take snapped, pointing at Tsuki. "He's an idiot. You saw him in class."  
"Hey…I'm right here, ya know," Tsuki grumbled, staring at the ground. "…I could be a fast learner," he whispered, "and I would train extra hard, to keep up with Take."  
"No," Take snapped. "You'll only get hurt," he added, and there was something there, in his eyes, that Kakashi couldn't immediately place. Was it…worry? Fear? "Tell him, Hokage-sama."  
Oh, Kakashi thought…nowhe was Hokage-sama, only when Take wanted him on his side.  
The jounin looked to Tsuki again, managing to catch his overly intimidated stare. Take was correct, to a certain degree. Kakashi recalled Tsuki during Iruka's class and, under normal circumstances, would label the boy as a waste of time. But there was something about Tsuki, something else the Rokudaime couldn't place that compelled him to disagree with Take. Establishing his superior couldn't hurt, either.  
"Keep showing up to training sessions," he said, much to Take's annoyance.  
Tsuki's face ignited with joy.  
"Yes sir!" he beamed, circling Kakashi with unchecked excitement. "I won't let you down, I promise!"  
"Now, now…just show up," Kakashi chuckled, cautious but curious to see where this would lead.  
"Take," Tsuki said, stepping near the other boy.  
Take looked as though he might attack him, at any moment.  
Tsuki's smile faltered.  
"You don't mind, do you? I mean, I'll try not to get in the way. Maybe afterwards, you can help teach me a few things, ne?" The redhead laughed nervously, brushing against his younger friend.  
"Whatever," Take said, rolling his eyes.  
"It's settled then," Kakashi said cheerfully. It was his hope that Take wouldn't take too great an offense to the idea. After all, the boy did need someone closer to his physical level to spar with, at least until his technique improved. And who knew? Perhaps that ball of enthusiasm named Tsuki would learn a thing or two, as well. The two could only help the learning process along, as Kakashi imagined each boy would try and out-best the other.  
Take stalked away.  
"Kakashi-sama?"  
"Mm," Kakashi looked down to find deep blue eyes staring back at him.  
"How will I know when to show up for training?" Tsuki asked with uncertainty, but not even the daggers Take stared him could dampen Tsuki's delight.  
Kakashi looked to Take. "I put a note in his desk," he said. "I'll just do the same with you."  
"A note? Won't Iruka-sensei catch you?"  
"I have a method," Kakashi said. His method involved absolute certainty that Iruka was nowhere in sight, when he broke into his classroom.  
"Tsuki."  
"Yes, sir."  
"You know how to get back home from here?" Kakashi asked.  
"Absolutely, sir," Tsuki nodded.  
"Good." Kakashi nodded towards Take. "The two of you keep to the trail and head back. No fooling around. It's going to get dark soon."  
"Right." Tsuki raced off, with his hands on his head, but he stopped to glance back at the Hokage. "Thank you, sir!" He smiled.  
"Oi, oi," Kakashi waved. "Head home."  
"Isn't this exciting, Take?" Tsuki said, catching up with the silver haired boy. "We're gonna train together!"  
"Just shut up and keep walking," Take sneered.  
Kakashi watched the two boys venture off into the forest, until their outlines were consumed by the trees. Before they disappeared, he watched Tsuki throw an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders, and Take did little to nothing in protest. Kakashi was certain the two would make it back, alright. A crescent of the setting sun would cast just enough light to get them back to the training fields. Furthermore, Shinobi children walked around, unsupervised, all the time. The jounin had nothing to worry about…  
'Of course I don't,'he thought quickly. He wasn't worried at all, because there was nothing to worry about. He didn't care. Right now, he was more concerned with getting back on Iruka's good side, which is why he insisted that they return without him. With them gone, Kakashi could set out on an alternative route, one that would take him straight into the marketplace.  
The jounin had an errand to run, at the moment. His intention was to make a quick stroll through the busy streets and stop by Ichiraku's. It had been reconstructed in the same place, after the war, just on the western end of the marketplace. That would give Kakashi plenty of time to peruse his other options, maybe pick up something Iruka might like, before settling on the ramen he already knew the chunin couldn't resist.  
Bringing home some Ichiraku's would surely prove an effective deterrent to Iruka's foul mood. Kakashi hadn't seen the chunin all day, but he had a fleeting suspicion that the other man was still upset with him, and for a reason the jounin did not yet fully grasp. So he'd been a bit short with Iruka, true. With so little time to himself, however, he was determined to spend as much of it on the training fields as possible. Whatever Hokage nonsense Iruka needed to bring up could have waited.  
Still, Kakashi hadn't anticipated Iruka's reaction and would surely end up paying for a very long time, if he did not fix this now. He couldn't recall a time when Iruka seriously wanted to kick him out. It took a lot of antagonizing, on his part, for Iruka to avoid him. Perhaps, this time, he'd gone a bit too far.  
A couple of kids around Take and Tsuki's age passed him by. All around, the marketplace functioned like a well oiled cog of attraction and amusement. He went unnoticed, for the most part, with the occasional bystander brushing up against him. Lovers, families, friends, patrons, and proprietors…no one seemed to notice the Rokudaime strolling down the street. Did Kakashi look so unfamiliar, when wearing his uniform? He rather enjoyed being able to walk down the street, not having to worry about praise or unwanted attention.  
Kakashi sighed in content.  
It was the clothes that made the Hokage, to most villager, who only caught a few fleeting glances of one, at a time. Now with his robes officially ruined, Kakashi had no other choice but to wear his uniform. He was, once again, a faceless jounin known only by legend.  
What a shame.  
Kakashi spotted Ichiraku's at the end of the road, but he continued his leisurely walk. The jounin was in no real rush. Iruka had to be in either two places: his office or the Missions room, both of which required late hours of his services. Iruka might have had an earlier shift in the Missions room, a fact Kakashi would have known if the chunin hadn't disappeared that morning. That Iruka was avoiding him was an option to consider, but it was Kakashi's firm belief that a few bowls from Ichiraku would set things straight…and surely have Iruka realizing that he overreacted about the whole thing.  
Kakashi flipped over a flap.  
"Kakashi-sama!" Teuchi greeted him. The old man wiped off a porcelain bowl with great earnest. "Have a seat! Have a seat! Here for a meal, I take it?" he chuckled.  
"No, no…I'm here to take-out," Kakashi corrected, good-naturedly.  
"Ah…that's a shame," Teuchi frowned. "Iruka-san and Yamato-san are right over here. I thought you might like to join them."  
Kakashi blinked. Iruka and Yamato?  
Kakashi scanned the humble eatery and spotted them, sitting at the far end of the ramen bar. He was surprised he hadn't seen them the moment he entered. Then again, he never expected to run into either of them here, at Ichiraku's. He never once imagined a scenario where he'd find Iruka and Yamato, together, without him.  
It certainly was…odd.  
"Hello, Kakashi-senpai." Yamato turned slowly, greeting his senpai with a slight grin. "I didn't think I'd see you here."  
Kakashi came forward and took the empty seat next to Yamato. "Maa…I came here to pick up some dinner," Kakashi said, noticing Iruka sitting with his head bowed low.  
"I didn't think you liked ramen all that much, Kakashi-senpai," Yamato suggested.  
"I like it enough," Kakashi said shortly. Iruka was probably noodle-deep into a bowl of ramen, he figured. But as he leaned forward, he quickly noted that the contents of Iruka's ramen bowl had already disappeared. "Iruka-sensei," he greeted, hoping to catch the younger man's attention.  
"…Kakashi-san," Iruka murmured softly. "I take it you didn't show up for work, since I was there all day and didn't see you," Kakashi heard the chunin say, from over Yamato's shoulder.  
"No. Not today," Kakashi admitted, "but I made a quick visit last night. I picked up that package you wanted me to look at."  
"Did you read it?"  
"Yes."  
"Good."  
Yamato looked between the two, reserving his uncertainty, but the captain was growing immensely uncomfortable. He was, suddenly, the buffer between the two. He looked to Teuchi, but the aging man looked just as uncertain, confused by the clipped exchange.  
Kakashi-sama and Iruka-sensei were not only loyal customers, themselves, but mentors to his greatest patron, Naruto Uzumaki. He imagined that, if not friends, they were considerably close acquaintances. He couldn't recall a lot of times where one entered his restaurant not accompanied by the other and, quite often, their mutual student.  
Tonight certainly was a rare occasion.  
"I'm allowed to take as many cohorts as I require," Kakashi said, staring in Iruka's direction. Yamato was blocking his line of vision, but Iruka was hunched into himself, making it very difficult for Kakashi to catch sight of him. "I may need your assistance, Iruka-sensei."  
"We'll see."  
"Indeed."  
A crash emitted from inside the kitchen, followed by a yelp.  
Yamato wiped the sweat from his brow, glad for the distraction.  
"Nishi! You dropped another pot!"  
"My bad, Matsu! My bad! At least I didn't spill it on your feet, this time."  
"I had third degree burns, for weeks! You know what I'll do to you, if you do that again?"  
"Nothing nearly as brutal as what I'll do to you both, if you two don't shut your traps and get back to work!" Teuchi yelled over his shoulder. "We've got customers, damn it!" There was a quick scuffle of feet and a few clinks of pots and pans before the kitchen returned to a productive volume. Teuchi looked back, staring at his three Shinobi customers. "Good help is hard to find these days," he chuckled, a strained smile on his face.  
"No kidding," Yamato smiled, chuckling a little louder than necessary. "I bet you miss Ayame-san a great deal, right now."  
"Nah," Teuchi waved away. "She's been nothing but the perfect little helper, since the day she took up her old man's trade," he chuckled. "It's good for her to get out and see the world, first hand. I think after all the tales she hears from you fellas, she wanted to experience a bit of adventure for herself."  
"I guess so," Yamato grinned. He turned to Kakashi, trying to think of something to say, when he noticed something different about the older man's appearance. "Kakashi-senpai, where are your robes?" he asked.  
"Maa…they suffered a grave fate," Kakashi said.  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Yamato groaned.  
There was a sharp exhale from Yamato's right. Kakashi leaned back, catching the subtlest shake of Iruka's head.  
"Is that why you're in uniform," Teuchi concluded. "I was beginning to wonder. In that case, care for a drink, Kakashi-sama? I guarantee you: one stiff shot of our most exceptional sake will make you forget whatever happened to your clothes."  
"No thank you, Teuchi-san."  
"You sure? Drinks are on the house, for the Hokage." Teuchi winked.  
"Maa…I'm certain," Kakashi nodded, his eye beaming. He reached into his back pocket, fishing for his wallet. Then he pulled it out and opened it up, took out a few bills and left them on the counter. "I'll just be on my way now, but how about another round of ramen for Yamato-san and Iruka-sensei," he said. "My treat."  
With that, Kakashi stood from his stool. "Teuchi-san," he said, nodding his farewell.  
"Oh…well, alright then. Have a good evening, Kakashi-sama."  
Yamato sat, confused. He quickly turned to Iruka, but the frowning chunin had grown quiet and indifferent, a stark difference from the smiling and engaging conversationalist he had been before Kakashi-senpai arrived. Iruka didn't seem all too eager to look away from his empty bowl of ramen.  
"Yamato-san. Iruka-sensei..."  
"Kakashi-senpai…?" The restaurant's dividing flaps swung in the wind, but Kakashi was gone before Yamato could turn on his stool.  
Chapter Fourteen  
Iruka turned the key, opening the door with a soft 'click'. He felt he shouldn't have been, but it surprised him to find his apartment pitch black. The chunin sighed, unable to contain his disappointment, and stepped inside, mindful to shut the door quietly.  
He enjoyed his evening, for the most part. Genma had offered to switch shifts with him, to which Iruka quickly accepted. So eager was he to avoid another late night shift that he didn't even ask Genma his reasons for offering. But knowing the tokubetsu jounin and that deviant smirk that graced his charming features, Iruka guessed that he probably didn't want to know.  
An evening of rest would do him some good. It would certainly save him from spending another night dodging the prying stares of his fellow colleagues. It wasn't just the Missions room, either, as, everywhere he went, Iruka found himself being eyed by other Shinobi. Whispers spewed rapidly from behind the palms of their hands. Iruka couldn't walk down a hallway without feeling their gazes on him, until the unwanted attention had him gripping tightly at the files in his hands.  
Of course, Iruka couldn't assume that all those murmurs were words of ill-intent. There were those who seemed genuinely interested about his role beneath the Hokage. He often found himself recounting his duties, and with great enthusiasm, whenever he was stopped and asked what it was the Rokudaime required of him. And when they walked away, their curiosity fulfilled, Iruka fell into another bout of annoyance. The paperwork, the messages, the office hours…despite all the strife the position entailed, coupled by the Hokage's contribution, Iruka always came off as eager to be Hatake Kakashi's assistant.  
Iruka couldn't figure out what was wrong with him.  
He'd been truthful, the night before, when he told Kakashi-san he was considering taking Lady Utatane's advisement. In any case, Iruka wasn't entirely convinced that it was his limited capabilities the jounin required, as Kakashi-san's insistence never seemed to go any further than needing him for the sake of needing him. Iruka wondered how the man would know that. How did Kakashi know whether or not he wouldn't rather prefer a stable, hard-working woman; a female touch, as Lady Utatane so delicately put it?  
Surely Iruka was being more foolish than the Hokage. At least Kakashi-san was being selfish for the sake of being selfish, needing Iruka around for whatever form of amusement the chunin could possibly provide for him. It was selfish of Iruka to believe, for one second, that Kakashi-san needed him as much as he claimed he did.  
Especially since, even now, after having threatened to resign, after telling Kakashi-san that he didn't care whether the man left or stayed, it was Iruka who expected to walk in and find the jounin lounging on his couch.  
Iruka closed his eyes and sighed, shaking the thoughts from his mind. He turned the key and locked his door. He thought back to earlier that afternoon, when he crossed paths with Yamato-san. They shared a few polite words, but Iruka was not even brutally honest when the jounin asked him how his day had gone.  
"It could have gone better."  
Before Iruka knew what was happening, Yamato-san was offering to treat him to Ichiraku's and, though Iruka was initially hesitant, Yamato-san insisted and wouldn't take 'No' for an answer. Iruka couldn't help but scoff, his mind wondering if Yamato-san's persistence was a trait learned well from his silver haired senpai. Of course, in his persistence, Yamato-san was much more considerate.  
They shared a few drinks and talked, before their order of tsukemen ramen appeared. Yamato-san disclosed, in great detail, a mission he recently partook in, and Iruka was surprised to find the other man was really interested in knowing how his day could have gone better. Iruka didn't have much rapport with the jounin of Konoha. The closest interaction he got with most of them was through temp squads and mission reports. Light conversation between himself and Captain Yamato-san was a rare occasion.  
Iruka kicked off his shoes and lined them up against the wall, his thoughts still focused on his evening with the captain and how the two of them enjoyed each other's company. Then he groaned, as the two of them became the three of them, and all hopes of enjoyment disappeared.  
Why, of all unimaginable times, did Kakashi-san have to enter Ichiraku's on that particular night? Why after last night, when Iruka found that he couldn't stand to look at the older man? Why did it have to be Yamato-san who had offered to treat him to a meal, and why did Iruka accept?  
Why did he feel that it mattered?  
Iruka's thoughts were getting ahead of him, and so he stopped thinking all together. He stood in stark silence, looking out the living room window that hovered across a sea of darkness. Outside, clusters of clouds had gathered, and Iruka was certain that tonight would commence a long and merciless rainstorm. The weather had certainly taken a drastic turn, mirroring his mood to perfection. He expected nothing more than the harshest of downpours, tonight, tomorrow, or sometime in the immediate future.  
The window was closed, just as Iruka left it that morning. Whether Kakashi-san used it to leave, a habit customary to the jounin, Iruka did not know. So afraid of what he might say or do in retaliation to whatever inconsiderate, jerky nonsense Kakashi-san might have to say, the chunin left earlier than usual. He made sure to be very quiet, though, as even the slightest of noises would wake the elite jounin. Not only was he a superb Shinobi, but Kakashi-san was also a light sleeper.  
The moment he awoke, Iruka told the ninken of his intentions. They were upset but, for the most part, understanding, and Iruka promised that he would make it up to them somehow. He and Kakashi might have been crossed with one another, but that didn't mean the ninken deserved to be punished. As far as he was concerned, he had no intention of leaving them any time soon, and they were more than welcomed to stay with him for as long as they liked. In Iruka's mind, they weren't going anywhere. That's why it was doubly upsetting for the chunin to not hear the sounds of their chatter upon entering.  
Iruka suggested earlier that they get out today –even managed to convince them to spend the day gallivanting on the mountainside. It proved good exercise for them; a group activity they could excuse as fun and not training, and Iruka enjoyed spotting them on the slopes of the Hokage monument, whenever he peaked out the office windows.  
Either they hadn't returned yet or they weren't going to return, and the latter probability left Iruka disheartened. Still, it wasn't as if he had any real say in where they stayed or where they lived. The ninken were not his dogs, though he'd grown very fond of them. Should Kakashi-san decide to take them with him, Iruka had no right to raise a complaint. Only, Iruka remembered what it was like before Kakashi-san and the ninken chose to spend their time at his home. Back then, he could only hope that Naruto was so bored or unoccupied in his own life that he would check in on his Academy sensei, every now and then. Otherwise, Iruka really had nothing to look forward to at home, other than a meal cooked for one, some Academy assignments to correct, and a long night spent lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling.  
It was a very lonely existence.  
It had always been that way, really. Since the age of twelve and the death of his parents, Iruka knew nothing else but to survive on his own and by his own. True, the Sandaime had supported him and always encouraged him. Eventually, he made a few friends at the Academy, but those few friendly acquaintances were either dead or above his pay roll now. And Sarutobi-sama had died protecting their village, leaving Iruka to grieve his passing every day.  
There was Mizuki, who Iruka once believed was his best friend. Then the truth was exposed, and Iruka learned that his supposed best friend thought of him as nothing more but a pathetic excuse of a Shinobi and, out of spite, merely toyed with his affections. Mizuki's betrayal certainly made trusting others a more trying dilemma.  
Iruka found Izumo and Kotetsu to be an exception, however. He trusted them to be good and honest men; trusted them to have his back, to enjoy his company, but Iruka never once thought of inviting them into his home. It just seemed…unnecessary.  
So, like now, Iruka would return to his lifeless apartment, with not much else but an evening of silence as his only companion.  
Iruka grazed a hand against the wall, blindly looking for the light switch. He thought back to the Hokage; about this evening and the atmosphere that could have been cut with a knife. Kakashi-san entered the ramen shop, and it was as if the world had stopped. Old man Teuchi-san called out the jounin's name and it was as though breath itself had been stripped from Iruka's lungs. He would not dare look up, not after the trouble Kakashi-san had caused him –after the hell he'd gone through the day before. All he wanted was a pleasant evening out with an acquaintance; dare he say, another colleague he could soon call his friend. Not once during their time together did either he or Yamato-san bring up the Hokage, Iruka realized, not knowing whether that made him happy or not.  
Iruka flipped the switch.  
He expected to find an empty apartment, an empty living room, and yet a body lay slumped across his couch. Iruka paused, slightly unnerved, but he didn't feel it necessary to stand guard. He recognized that body: soft strands of silver hair stood on end, draped over the armrest; bare shoulders, lean muscle build, long limbs, and that familiar, navy-blue undershirt and mask barring all sight to the face that lie beneath it. His eyes fell on Kakashi's tattoo. It burned red, under a soft yellow glow of light. Because of Kakashi-san's insistent negligence, Iruka had seen the Anbu insignia quite a few times. It was no less startling than the last time he'd seen it, especially as it drew more attention to the severe paleness of Kakashi-san's skin.  
Kakashi-san's torso was twisted, with his back facing towards the ceiling, and his face was, effectively, buried against the back cushions of the couch. The way in which Kakashi-san slept didn't look all too comfortable, but that thought was immediately trumped by the shock of seeing Kakashi-san lying there, in the first place. Iruka stepped forward, and Kakashi-san didn't stir.  
He noticed the jounin's shirt and flak jacket tossed on top of his desk, so he walked across the room and followed suit, pulling his own jacket from his shoulders. He folded up the shirt, set both vests on the edge of his desk, side by side, and gazed at them thoughtfully. He sighed, thinking of how he'd put both articles of clothing through the wash, sometime this week. That's what usually ended up happening; much of the jounin's clothes ended up in his laundry basket, and cleaning them was a thoughtless endeavor on Iruka's part. But now he really thought about it, staring at the two identically issued but distinctively dissimilar jackets: one a lighter green, laden with chalk residue, dirt, and a few minor rips, and the other a darker green, spotted with blood stains and patterned with dozens of ragged tears that Iruka had, long ago, taken upon himself to patch back together. He'd go through the two vests, take out the weapons, the scrolls, the tools, and put them in the wash, along with the rest of his clothes.  
Speaking of which… Iruka scanned the room, looking for the Hokage robes Kakashi-san claimed had suffered a grave fate. Iruka didn't believe that story for one second, certain that he'd find Kakashi-san's clothes stuffed in some obscure corner of his apartment. He thought it typical of the jounin to tell such a boldface lie. Iruka eyed the man with disdain, even now. He crossed his arms and frowned. But from this angle, he still couldn't see Kakashi-san's face. Annoyance quickly ebbed away, and another wave of worry consumed him.  
Iruka wandered past the coffee table and back across the room, his gaze never leaving Kakashi-san's seemingly sleeping form. All the while, he tried to find a place for this undeserved concern. By all rights, he shouldn't care to know whether or not Kakashi-san was really sleeping or not. Still pained by the other man's words and actions, Iruka had every right to demand that Kakashi-san leave at once. But he found that he couldn't. Kakashi-san still hadn't stirred, showed no signs of alertness, and knowing that this was unlike the jounin was upsetting to him.  
He kept his distance, not wanting to disturb Kakashi-san if he really was sleeping. Perhaps it was best this way, and the less interaction they shared with one another the better. But that didn't explain why Kakashi-san was here, in his home. Watching him, his eyes fixed with uncertainty, Iruka doubted that Kakashi-san's returning was meant to mess with him. Were that the case, surely he'd be awake to greet him and torture him with his overbearing presence. This, however, had to be something different, something Iruka couldn't easily place.  
Iruka walked into his kitchen, noting the eight bowls on the floor and that they were empty. The chunin smiled, looking towards the hallway. Noise or no noise, seeing those few crumbs left at the bottom of their bowls left Iruka a little more hopeful to find eight hounds in his bedroom. Maybe they called in an early night, just as their owner had…possibly.  
Iruka walked out of the kitchen area, trailing his hand over the counter on his way out. He looked to Kakashi-san again and noticed no change in his demeanor. For one irrational second, Iruka feared that Kakashi-san wasn't breathing. 'Of course he's breathing,' he mentally scolded… He was tired and needed rest, if jumping to a conclusion like that. The thought that Kakashi-san had, possibly, succumbed to some fatality, on his couch, was unnerving. Kakashi-san's deathly pale skin looked even paler, when imagining the jounin drained of life. Iruka couldn't get the idea out of his mind, now, and was growing more paranoid with every passing second. Possessed with worry and traumatized by his own imagination, he crept towards his couch again, thinking that if he could see the subtle rise and fall of Kakashi-san's body, it would put his mind at ease.  
The jounin exhaled and inhaled, relieving the chunin of his concern.  
Iruka shook his head. He was acting ridiculous; he should have turned down Yamato-san's offer and taken what free time he had to call in an early night too. Get some sleep. Instead, he was standing in his living room with baited breath while his mind tricked him into believing that the Hokage lay dead on his couch. He tugged at his hair band and pulled his ponytail apart, knowing that the subsiding pressure would ease his growing migraine. He had a habit of pulling his hair too tightly together. Though he put his hair up to minimize accidents, a migraine often did more harm than good.  
"You should wear your hair down more often."  
Kakashi-san's coolly controlled voice echoed through his mind. He looked to the jounin again, uncertain, but shook his head and moved on. He turned the lights off and made sure that the front door was locked. He moved about in the dark, allowing the faint light from outside to filter through the room. Iruka's eyes adapted quickly, to where he could see shadows of his bookshelves outlining his walls, the dark figures of his scrolls, his tools, his possessions, as well as his couch and the limp body lying on top of it.  
He was headed towards his bedroom when a thought stopped him in his tracks. He detoured to the hallway closet, quick to rifle through its contents. There were three shelves stacked with toiletries and variously sized towels and two cupboards beneath them that were packed with thick wool blankets, bed sheets, and duvet covers. Iruka pulled out the thickest blanket he could find, before closing the sliding door. He returned to the couch, unfolding the cover as he went. He pulled two ends apart, all the while eyeing the dark figure that was Kakashi-san's sleeping form. Regardless of how hopeless the jounin had him feeling, Iruka could not allow him to continue sleeping under the impending weather conditions. Not in good conscience, at least. Iruka felt a chill, just thinking of how cold it was going to get.  
It was freezing now.  
A mission was one thing, but why would anyone readily sleep through weather like this without some form of covering? Kakashi-san knew where the linens were –he should have pulled out a blanket for himself. The chunin rolled his eyes. Why was he even questioning this? Why did he question anything Kakashi-san did or didn't do, knowing that the answer or lack thereof would only irritate him? Shaking his head once more, Iruka fanned the blanket out until the other two ends folded over the jounin's body. Kakashi-san was effectively covered, with the exception of one of his legs. The long limb dangled over the edge of the couch.  
Iruka leaned forward, fixing the blanket so that it dipped around Kakashi-san's shoulders and backside, and he was extra careful not to touch any part of the Hokage's body.  
Former Anbu efficient in various forms of killing often lashed out when they slept. So accustomed to keeping vigilant on S-rank assignments; watching their backs that elite jounin like Kakashi-san never really lay at rest. They struggled, constantly, with their paranoia and sense of security. Then there were all those other side-effects to living as the village's protection. Iruka was an instructor, a teacher well-versed in the knowledge of what it meant to be that protector. Throughout history, many great ninja had lost their sanity in their efforts to cope with the lifestyle and those efforts proving fruitless. Iruka knew of colleagues no higher ranked than he himself who snapped after their first mission, their first kill, and were now housed, indefinitely, in the psychiatric ward of Konoha's hospital.  
For higher ranking Shinobi, the trauma could be much worse. Iruka couldn't count how many times he'd heard of some jounin from some Shinobi village that had accidently killed their friends or family. It happened to the most stable of their kind, sometimes. He or she returned, in a trance, where their footsteps had led them home but their minds were stuck in a mission or on a battlefield. In this state of mind, they fought, often mistaking their loved ones for mortal enemies. That's why, to avoid this, many Anbu members tried to retire after a few years. But even the most extreme precautions failed to eliminate all evidence of trauma. As for Kakashi-san, Iruka wouldn't be surprised to find that the older man slept with a weapon at his disposal, ready to be pulled from his person at any given moment. Even Iruka kept a kunai beneath his pillow, and he had far less reason to be so attentive.  
In that respect, Iruka worried over Kakashi-san a great deal. He wondered how the former Anbu, Legendary Copy Nin coped with the extremities of Shinobi life.  
Iruka reached over, carefully, making sure to secure the rest of the blanket along Kakashi-san's head, all the while looking down at him with some trepidation. He pulled the back cushions forward a bit, hoping to provide a little more comfort for the jounin. Then he paused, staring at that crop of faint silver hair.  
Becoming Hokage was the best thing for Kakashi-san, in Iruka's opinion. Not that he was overly unstable, but the jounin didn't react to situations in any way Iruka found normal. Being regularly cool and controlled, aloof and indifferent wasn't healthy and certainly couldn't be all that Kakashi-san was. Maybe that was his coping mechanism, in some small way, for the hardships of field work.  
Iruka stood back, observing his handy work. His attention was taken by flashes of light coming from outside. He waited a few more seconds until, eventually, the sound of thunder rumbled from a sky of thick, gray clouds. He looked down once more, unable to tear his eyes away from Kakashi-san just yet. At least he could sleep easy now, knowing that the jounin wasn't out here, freezing to death. He gave up trying to figure out why Kakashi-san was here to begin with. Whatever his reasons…they could wait until morning. Even if he wanted to, Iruka knew he would never send Kakashi-san out in weather this wretched.  
"Good night, Kakashi-san," Iruka whispered, knowing that his words had fallen on deaf ears, but saying goodnight put him at ease, for some reason. He reached out again, tugging the cover a little higher, until Iruka saw only a large, pale ear protruding beneath tufts of hair. Then he walked away, at last, imagining the cushions, the soft fabric, and warmth of his own bed. He nearly grinned, dreamily, certain that Guruko, Pakkun, Bull, Shiba, Uhei, Urushi, Bisuke, and Akino were there, surrounding his bed. Their accumulated body heat would only make a night of much needed rest all the more pleasant. And whatever curiosity Iruka held towards their master, in whatever aspect, could definitely wait until morning.  
Then morning came.  
It was raining, just as Iruka knew that it would. The downpour thudded against his roof, starting some time during the night, and was now pulling him from his sleep. Actually, Iruka vaguely recalled Pakkun pulling the collar of his turtle-neck with his teeth and humming, scarcely melodically, into his ear.  
"Rise and shine, pup," the pug muttered between the tight grip of his jowls. Iruka didn't swat Pakkun away but pulled himself up, rubbing his eyes and yawning, and the weight of Pakkun's small form simply fell into his lap. In a haze of grogginess, the ninken were only a blur of colorful fur, but he counted five of them, all of which were looking to him with eager gazes. Disoriented, Iruka's eyes grew wide with fear. Did he wake up late? He was late to work? What about the Academy... Had they secured a substitute for the following week?  
"Pakkun!" Pakkun jumped at the shrill volume of his voice. "What time is it?"  
"Relax, youngster," he groused, pawing at Iruka's sheets. He looked to the chunin with a toothy grin. "It's Sunday. You don't work today," he explained.  
"Since when?" Iruka asked, skeptic, but he reached down and scratched behind Pakkun's ears. The little pug panted appreciatively, closing his eyes with glee.  
"Since always," Pakkun mumbled.  
"Iruka! Iruka!" Guruko raced from the edge of the bed, brushing up against Iruka's side. The chunin smiled, wrapping his arm around the larger dog. "Time to wake up, Iruka!"  
"I'm up, I'm up," he chuckled, earning him a lick to the face. "I don't have as much energy as you do, Guruko."  
"He's just excited," Bisuke said, sauntering across the bed.  
Iruka yawned, "What's he so excited about?"  
The droopy-eyed dog bowed low, brushing his nose against the bed. "It's so gloomy outside," he frowned. Iruka couldn't have agreed more. He took one look outside his window and sulked, not wanting to believe how dreadful the weather was. He saw tree branches dance in front of the glass, as the wind threatened to strip them of all their leaves. The clouds were a dark gray, heavy with potential rainfall. How such a sunny day as yesterday could morph into this overnight, Iruka didn't know.  
He reached out and patted the top of Bisuke's head. "I couldn't agree more."  
"Good morning, Iruka!"  
"Mm?"  
"Morning, Iruka."  
Shiba and Uhei leaned over the edge of Iruka's bed, standing on their hind legs. Their tails wagged in perfect tempo with one another, swinging back and forth with enthusiasm. Iruka made sure to greet them as well, reaching over to ruffle their fur.  
"Good morning," Iruka smiled.  
He watched Uhei and Shiba lap at his hand, and he felt Bisuke, Pakkun, and Guruko watching him, expectantly. That's when he smelled something, a pleasant fragrance wafting through the bitterly cold air. It caused Iruka's mouth to water and his stomach to churn. The prospect of eating the round of ramen Kakashi-san had paid for made him feel miserable, but perhaps he should have. He didn't realize how hungry he was until just now, when that sweet smell hit his nostrils.  
"What's that smell?" he asked, to which he gained no response. All five ninken were staring at him, smiling at him, and their ever-watchful gazes were unsettling. Then yesterday replayed in his mind: an evening with Yamato-san, a meal, and then another jounin; the Hokage, no less, who paid for their second round of ramen and crashed on his couch, last night. Iruka could safely assume where that smell was coming from now.  
"Smells like food to me," Pakkun said. "Let's go, youngster." The pug grabbed hold of his sleeve and pulled, leading the chunin from his bed. Iruka allowed the ninken to push him out of bed, to where he was staggering to remain standing. "I don't know about you, Iruka, but I'm hungry."  
"So am I," Bisuke said.  
"Likewise," Uhei shrugged, brushing past Iruka's leg.  
"Me too!" Shiba exclaimed, following after his bandaged brother.  
Guruko jumped off the bed, scraping his claws against the rug. He looked up at the chunin, moping. "Man, Iruka. After all the running and climbing we did yesterday, the food you left us just wasn't enough. I'm starving!" The thick whiskered dog urged Iruka forward, as the rest of his kin circled around, guiding him towards the door.  
Iruka stopped himself, placing the palm of his hand against the doorframe. "You guys go ahead. I need to use the bathroom, right quick," he said.  
Five identical smiles dropped.  
"Can't you wait?" Pakkun grouched out.  
Iruka laughed, nervously. He found himself running a hand through his hair in a way he'd seen Kakashi-san do on frequent occasions. "I just woke up! If I wait any longer, I may not make it," he grinned, cheekily.  
"Mm…" Pakkun hummed, his eyes narrowing into slants. "If you say so, youngster." The pug motioned to the others, his stumpy tail lifting into the air. "Let's go get some food."  
Iruka turned the knob and opened the door for them, letting the five dogs out. He watched them chase down the hallway and into a living room booming with morning light and the clatter of cooking utensils. Iruka stepped out of his bedroom, across the hall, and into the bathroom, making sure to close the door as silently as possible. The linoleum tiles of his bathroom floor hit his bare feet like a rush of ice, but he ignored the sensation. He took a few steps forward, reached out, and pulled back the shower curtain, revealing a small rectangular window above the tub. The rain showered down, pelting the glass with thick drops of water and Iruka looked on, hopelessness etched into his eyes. A sense of anxiety overtook him, gazing into that downpour.  
A couple of minutes passed, before Iruka pulled the shower curtain back. He went about his morning routine: brushed his teeth, washed his face…he decided to hold off on a shower, for now, and brushed his hair but didn't pull it back into a ponytail. Washing his hands, he looked up from the sink to the mirror and stared at his reflection. Sullen brown eyes stared back at him, looking down at the dull scar across his nose and the thin-lipped frown beneath it. Iruka had to admit: the man staring back at him didn't think the morning would begin as peacefully as he had hoped it would.  
Iruka emerged from the bathroom better collected than before. He was fully awake now but walked at a snail's pace. He imagined what it was he'd find on the other end of his hallway, what sight would accompany the distant murmurs and commotion. The first thing Iruka noticed was the duvet blanket he used to cover Kakashi-san last night. Someone had folded it up and placed it at the end of the couch. He heard heavy panting and guessed that a few of the ninken were roughhousing in the living room. Then he saw them, Guruko, Uhei, and Shiba, chasing one another around the coffee table. Iruka furrowed his brow, frowning. "Someone's going to get hurt," he snapped, gripping his waist.  
"Ma…that's what I told them."  
Iruka's expression fell, as anticipation took hold of him. Besides, he knew the ninken were in no real danger. They were ninken, after all, but he had to be mindful of the neighbors. Their paws pounding against the floor could get him written up or worse, evicted. Even he wouldn't want to have to listen to that so early in the morning.  
"What time is it?" Iruka asked, nervous over who would answer. Would it be Akino, Bisuke, or Bull, all of whom lay on his couch; Urushi, who lay beneath the coffee table, Guruko, Shiba, or Uhei, all three of whom aligned themselves under the mantle, or would it be that unmistakably rich, low tone that drifted, just now, from inside his kitchen?  
"It is 9:50," Kakashi hummed, moving about the kitchen. Iruka couldn't see what he was doing but, whatever it was, it produced a good smell. "The ninken wanted to wake you sooner, but I insisted you take a few more hours of rest. Since it's your day off, I figured you were in no rush."  
"…Since when is it my day off, Kakashi-san?" Iruka asked, hesitantly.  
He focused his gaze on Kakashi's back now, following the silver haired man from the fridge to the stove. His footsteps had led him to the edge of the kitchen counter. Iruka gripped it tightly, dependent on its support. Kakashi turned, spatula in hand, wearing the broadest of smiles in his one visible eye.  
Iruka felt his face heat up, his mouth go dry and, if he tried speaking just then, he was certain of his incapability of doing so.  
"You have the day off now… I am the Hokage, and I've made my decree," he stated, and Iruka marveled at the man's simplicity. The jounin turned back towards the stove, where the sound of sizzling and a rush of steam awaited him. Iruka drummed his fingers against the counter, looking around. He saw dishes on the other side of the counter –all of them empty, but imagined that Kakashi-san had set them out in preparation of using them. Iruka looked to the jounin once more, watching his every movement.  
"What happened?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"What happened to Kakashi?"  
"Pakkun…I don't know what you're talking about."  
He looked behind him, where the ninken spoke adamantly amongst themselves. Then he looked out the window and couldn't believe his eyes. It appeared as though the rain was only pouring down harder and heavier than before. Iruka turned back towards Kakashi, who remained busied with food that smelled absolutely delicious.  
"You couldn't give me the day off, on a day with better weather?"  
"You see?" Pakkun growled, leaping on top of the counter. "I told you so." He looked to Iruka. "I told him to pick a better day."  
Kakashi looked to them both. "Ne…it's just today," he shrugged. "I don't expect it to rain, every Sunday."  
"Every Sunday?" Iruka froze, his eyes growing wide. "Kakashi-san…"  
"Take a look at this, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi said, motioning him over. Iruka circled around, stepping into the kitchen, and did his best not to meet the jounin's stare. He stopped short, standing beside the other man. He looked to the stove, where a different kind of food cooked on every burner. "Omelets, natto, steamed rice, and miso," Kakashi explained, pointing to each individual pot or pan. Iruka's eyes lit up, and his stomach grumbled again. The golden yellow of the omelets, the creamy brown of the beans, the flaky white rice and the miso swirling with seaweed strings had him near tears. "I also made tsukemono. It's in the fridge."  
"Kakashi-san," Iruka breathed, amazed. "That's a lot of food."  
"Then there's enough food to last all day," he shrugged.  
Iruka turned to him, taken back by disbelief. "Kakashi-san, you shouldn't have –"  
"I wanted to," the jounin interjected. "I thought it would be a nice thing to do."  
Iruka couldn't help it. He smiled. "It is."  
"What do ya mean you don't know what I'm talking about? He came in and didn't say a damn thing to any of us."  
"Who didn't?  
"Kakashi!"  
"Maa, I'm almost done here. Go take a seat and I'll serve."  
"You're serving?" Iruka asked, sporting a smirk and a raised brow.  
"I'm serving," Kakashi-san reiterated, waving a spatula back and forth.  
"Okay then…" Iruka muttered, blinking his disbelief away. It wasn't as if Kakashi-san hadn't served him food before, just as Iruka could recall plenty of other times where he'd felt crossed by the jounin. Just…Iruka believed it easier to forget the former than it was the latter.  
Taking a seat on his couch, he felt confused. He also felt amused and anxious and nervous, and the chunin couldn't understand why these feelings kept tumbling over one another. He felt entitled to only one emotion, anger, but anger never came to him.  
Iruka settled against the cushions, resting his left arm against Bull's back. He rubbed him down, absentmindedly, while watching the rest of the ninken interact with one another. They looked happy; at least, happier than they appeared last night. Iruka recalled last night, opening his bedroom door and flicking the light switch, only to find eight dogs sitting on his bed. They'd been staring at the door, all night, waiting for him. Pakkun sat at the front, always the leader of their pack. He also seemed the most disgruntled, for a reason Iruka didn't understand.  
"After the way he treated you, we were all hoping you'd let that nitwit back in. So we waited. He came in through the front door! We were waiting by the window! And he didn't say one word to us –he just waltzed right in and collapsed on the couch."  
Pakkun pounced on Urushi's tail, in some game based on speed and agility.  
"He didn't say anything?" Iruka had asked.  
"Not a word. He's been like that, all night," Pakkun grumbled. "We tried talking to him, but he just ignores us."  
"Food is served, Iruka-sensei." Iruka looked up, watching as Kakashi walked out of the kitchen holding two plates. He grabbed hold of his cover and tossed it to the other side of the couch, making room for the jounin.  
"Thank you," he said, but his voice barely reached above a whisper. He took his plate from Kakashi, and Kakashi sat down, crossing his legs. The jounin leaned back, hanging his arm over the back of the couch. Iruka sat back as well, trying to will the blush from his face. With Bull, Akino, and Bisuke taking up most of the couch, his proximity to the other man was glaringly close. He could feel Kakashi-san's arm on the back of his neck and grew alarmed when a wet sensation seeped into his hair.  
"Kakashi-san," Iruka leaned forward, staring at the man's arm. "Are you wet?"  
"Eh?" Kakashi-san tilted his head. "Oh… I had a few errands to run, this morning."  
"Hey!" Pakkun ran from under the coffee table and jumped in between them. "Where's our food?" he barked, baring his sharp teeth.  
"In the kitchen," Kakashi drawled, tilting his head to the right. Iruka felt the weight collapse beneath his arm, as Bull climbed off the couch, and all eight dogs rushed towards the kitchen.  
"Food!" He heard Guruko cry.  
"Maa…You'd think they were being starved, with the way they act," Kakashi sighed.  
Iruka chuckled, unable to help himself. His uneasiness forced it out of him. He looked towards the plate in his hands, as it brimmed with marvelous dishes that he wasn't even aware Kakashi-san knew how to cook. He picked up his utensils, dug in, and realized that Kakashi-san had superb culinary skills. Here was another talent the jounin could keep under his hat, along with being a superb fighter and a great leader. Iruka's cooking was okay but never tasted this good. He had nothing else going for him, now.  
Kakashi reached up, pulling his mask down, and, from that moment on, Iruka kept his gaze downward, watching as the contents slowly disappeared from his plate.  
"Is it good, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka nodded, producing a slight grin. "It's delicious, Kakashi-san. Thank you."  
"What the hell is wrong with him?" Pakkun growled, pacing back and forth.  
"I honestly don't know," Iruka said. Although he had an idea of what the reason might be, the chunin refused to entertain that the two incidents were related. That was that selfish thinking again, the kind that had Iruka believing he was somehow significant to the Hokage.  
He shut his bedroom door and sat on the edge of his bed, eyeing the pack wearily. "I was with Yamato-san, tonight."  
"What?" Eight pairs of eyes stared at him blankly. Iruka sat back, with eyes wide open.  
"Why?" Bull asked.  
Iruka frowned. "Why not?"  
Pakkun jumped in, "Why were you with Yamato-san?"  
"I was on my way home, when we bumped into one another. He offered to treat me to Ichiraku's."  
"Is that all?"  
"Yes." What else was there? The ninken looked at him as though he'd, single-handedly, destroyed the Hidden Leaf. "We went to Ichiraku's, and then Kakashi-san showed up."  
"WHAT!"  
"Keep your voices down!" Iruka hissed, looking around. "It's late… Kakashi-san is sleeping."  
Pakkun snorted. "No he's not."  
"He's not sleeping?"  
"No," Pakkun shook his head. "We're his ninken. We've known him all his life; since the day he was born: before he could walk or talk and did little else but drool and babble nonsense. Trust me when I say we can tell when he is and isn't doing something. He's upset about something, Iruka-sensei, and that's a fact."  
Iruka stared down at his bedspread, flustered. He looked toward his door but was really looking past it, to the jounin lying on his couch, in the dark, and with nothing more than a blanket to keep him sheltered from the growing cold. So he was a bleeding heart… Iruka didn't care, especially since it was his prime tormentor he was worried about.  
"Pakkun."  
"What's up, young pup?"  
Iruka patted Pakkun on the head, smiling sadly. "This is going to sound strange, but I need a favor from you all."  
"Anything, Iruka," Pakkun said, before turning to his brothers. "Right guys?"  
"Of course!"  
"Absolutely."  
"Whatever you need, Iruka."  
Iruka looked back towards the door, sighing. "This will probably sound ridiculous, but, I don't want Kakashi-san to be alone tonight. I agree with you, Pakkun. I felt something was wrong, when he left Ichiraku's. I just…I just don't know what."  
"You don't?"Pakkun asked, the other ninken mirroring his disbelief.  
"Should I?"  
Pakkun shook his head, causing his ears to flap up and down. "Never mind that, youngster." The pug hopped off the bed, circling around. "I'll go keep Kakashi company. I've been giving him a bit of a cold shoulder lately, anyway."  
"I'll go too," Akino said, leaping off the bed.  
"So will I," Urushi griped, obviously reluctant to leave. Iruka offered him an encouraging smile and a pat on the head, as he passed by to climb off the bed.  
Iruka turned towards the rest of the pack.  
"Anymore volunteers?" They looked to him with dread. "It's just for tonight… You're his ninken and, like Pakkun said, you guys know him best."He could tell he was swaying the ninken, if only a little. Only Guruko appeared hell-bent on staying put, lowering his against the mattress and whimpering.  
Finally, Iruka heard a deep groan and a shrug of burly black shoulders. "I guess I'll go and keep the boss company, too," Bull said, rising from the bed. Bisuke slipped off his back but quickly huddled against Shiba and closed his eyes.  
"Thank you, Bull," Iruka said. Bull came forward, raising a paw against Iruka's shoulder. Then he came down, lapping the side of Iruka's face with his giant, pink tongue. The mattress dipped, as Bull hopped off. Iruka turned to stare at the four tail wagging dogs on his bedroom floor.  
"So it's split," Pakkun said, making the same observation as Iruka. "Four of us will go to Kakashi, and four us will stay with you. Is that alright?" Iruka nodded, pleased with the idea. Pakkun, Urushi, Akino, and Bull brushed by him one last time, and Iruka gave them each a stroke behind the ears to wish them a good night. "Good night, Iruka-sensei."  
"Goodnight, Pakkun. I hope you guys enjoyed yourself, today."  
"We had a blast," Bull grumbled, his jowls lifting into a smile. "Pakkun almost fell off the side of the mountain."  
"That's because you and Guruko got together and tried to push me off the side of the mountain," the pug snapped back.  
Iruka turned on Guruko, angrily. The once steadfast dog was now cowering and whining. "Oh come on. Why do you guys always try and pin the bad stuff on me?"  
"Maybe it's because you're the one that's always doing bad things," Uhei calmly suggested.  
Guruko crawled forward, with his tail between his legs, planting his head on top of Iruka's lap. He looked to the jounin with doe-like eyes, but they gleamed with mirth. "If you guys keep making me out to be such a baddy, I may have to retire my title as Iruka's Favorite Dog."  
"Iruka's favorite dog?" Pakkun scoffed. "Iruka doesn't have a favorite…"  
"That's right," Iruka nodded, smiling.  
"…unless it's me."Iruka pinched the bridge of his nose, and the ninken went in uproar, arguing over who was his most favorite ninken. The chunin sighed, as this was not the first time he'd heard this argument.  
He decided to put a swift end to it, before it could escalate…like last time. "Alright, alright. That's enough! Pakkun, Guruko," he looked to them both, "you both know damn well that I don't favor any one of you over the next. I care for you all equally."  
"See? I told you," Pakkun snickered, jumping into Iruka's lap. Iruka stood, catching Pakkun mid-leap.  
"You're just as bad as Guruko," he said miserably.  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Guruko moped. The other hounds laughed, watching Iruka hold Pakkun under the arms like a little child.  
Iruka carried him to the door. "I don't know about you, Pakkun, but I'm tired. How about you all postpone this debate, preferably, for when I'm not here," he said, setting the pug by the door.  
Pakkun chuckled, giving his snickering brothers the evil eye. "I guess this can be postponed for another time."  
"Good."  
Iruka opened the door, just a sliver –enough to allow four canines out. Each passed him by, nodding him one last goodnight. Iruka closed the door after them. Then he closed his eyes and opened them again, before turning to glower at the remaining four.  
"Bedtime. Now," he said, his tone leaving no room for shenanigans.  
The ninken made space for him, pulling the covers back and pawing his pillow. Iruka buried himself beneath the sheets and the ninken surrounded him. Guruko climbed beneath his arm, Uhei lay up against his back, Bisuke took up the empty spot of Iruka's pillow, and Shiba rested his head against the chunin's legs.  
Iruka closed his eyes, eager to fall into a deep sleep.  
"Iruka-sensei."  
"Mm?"  
"If you're finished, I can take your plate in for you."  
"Oh…thanks." Iruka handed Kakashi-san his empty plate. Kakashi stacked the two empty dishes together and proceeded to the kitchen. His was wearing his mask again, but Iruka couldn't remember him pulling it back up. "The meal was delicious, Kakashi-san." Iruka thanked him again, just as Kakashi put the two plates in the sink and turned on the faucet.  
"Thanks," Kakashi said.  
"This is good, boss," Bull said, but Iruka could see only his backside, protruding from the kitchen.  
"Is there more?"  
Iruka knew that only Guruko would ask that.  
"There's plenty more."  
"Kakashi-san?"  
Kakashi looked up, curiosity in his eye, and Iruka nearly bulked. But he kept his eyes trained on the other man, determined to get his thoughts across. He could feel his face flushing, reddening with nervousness. He was mortified and brimming with anxiety. Kakashi-san waited for him to speak, but his composure and patience caused Iruka a moment's hesitance.  
"Ma…what is it, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka swallowed hard, mustering his pride and setting doubt aside.  
"I need to speak with you," he stated firmly, his eyes falling to the ninken at Kakashi-san's feet, "privately."  
Kakashi-san nodded his cooperation, something Iruka waited with baited breath to see. He might not have known the jounin as well as his ninken did, but he knew Kakashi-san had a knack for avoiding serious discussion. He was surprised, by the other man's cooperation, and equally disturbed by what the jounin did next.  
Kakashi stepped over his ninken and opened the front door. "Get out," he said.  
Iruka's mouth fell open.  
"You're kicking us out?" Urushi sneered. "You can't kick us out."  
"I can and I will." The ninken growled. "Iruka-sensei would like to speak with me, privately."  
"You petulant child," Pakkun grumbled. "We'll just see what Iruka has to say about –"  
"OUT." Kakashi blocked Iruka's view of them, pointing out the door, and Iruka heard a shuffle of paws echo out into the corridor.  
"We'll just wait right here," Pakkun proclaimed vehemently. "Kakashi, you better not do anything stup–"  
Kakashi shut the door, cutting Pakkun off. Then he turned, leaning against it.  
"You didn't have to kick them out," Iruka said.  
Kakashi shrugged. "You said you wanted to speak with me, privately."  
Iruka pointed towards the hallway. "They could have gone into the bedroom!" he snapped. "They're going to get wet!"  
"Ne," Kakashi breathed, "you heard Pakkun. They should be fine, so long as they stay by the door." Iruka rubbed his temple, chuckling. "Does something amuse you, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Yes," Iruka shot back. "You. Your actions are so typical, Kakashi-san. It's pouring outside, but you don't think twice about that, do you?"  
"What's done is done, Iruka-sensei. In any case, they've been through worse."  
"That doesn't make them immune, Kakashi-san," Iruka glared, following him with a heated stare. "That doesn't make it necessary. So they've suffered through worse…why do they have to suffer at all?"  
Kakashi shoved his hands into his pockets, stepping closer.  
"Are you mad, Iruka-sensei?"  
"No. I'm upset."  
"With me?"  
"Why did you come back, last night?" Iruka blurted out. The question had been resting on the tip of his tongue, for some time now. He needed to spit it out before it consumed him. "Nothing has changed –I haven't changed my mind. You disrespected me. You undermined me, in front of my colleagues. You don't appreciate any of the work I do for you, which is a lot. I'm overwhelmed, Kakashi-san!" he finished, pitifully.  
"I know."  
"Do you?" Iruka was incredulous. "Because I don't think you do…"  
"Iruka-sensei…" Kakashi paused, leaning up against the counter. Out of the corner of his eye Iruka watched him, well aware of that indolent stare. "Why didn't you tell me you stopped teaching at the Academy?" Iruka sucked in a breath, surprised. "That information isn't hard to find, Iruka-sensei. It's public record."  
"I haven't taught for a week and a half now. What difference does that make?"  
"You didn't tell me, Iruka-sensei."  
"I didn't think you would care," Iruka admitted, but he regretted it instantly. "Izumo's been helpful enough to substitute my class," he continued, looking away. "That's what you assigned him to do, isn't it? Help me?"  
Silence overcame the chunin. Suddenly, the rain pounding against his roof was all encompassing, drowning out his thoughts. He refused to look back at Kakashi-san, believing to have seen hurt etched into the jounin's brow. Perhaps Iruka had imagined it, but he felt guilty, nonetheless. Making Kakashi-san feel bad was not his intention. He just wanted him to understand the grief he'd put him through.  
"Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka didn't respond, afraid to believe that that was grief in Kakashi-san's tone.  
"I was a chunin by age six. You know this. During my exam, lords and politicians from all over the country filled the arena to bet on me. Everyone wanted to see that child prodigy, the White Fang's son, live up to the legend of his father. I was hell-bent on living up to the expectations that my father hadn't."  
"That's not true," Iruka spoke out, but he didn't dare look up.  
"By Konoha's standards, he hadn't. So I made sure to prove that I was better. I made jounin at thirteen, taking on S-rank missions with the Yondaime. Shinobi respected me, because I had strength, admired me, because I was young, but they all despised me beneath their breath. And when I stopped caring about the opinions of others, I realized that what I hated more than anything else was their adulation. They showered me with dishonesty, always telling me what they thought I wanted to hear. It makes for spotty teamwork, for one thing. It's difficult for a team leader to form strategy, when his men only ever agree with him."  
"What are you trying to tell me, Kakashi-san," Iruka breathed, growing more and more distraught. He just wanted the jounin to get to the point. "What could I possibly glean from this? That you're better than me?"  
He looked up, at last, surprised to see anger in Kakashi's silver orb.  
"Iruka-sensei…" Iruka trembled, running a frantic hand through his hair. "You wanted to know why I came back."  
"How could any of this information explain why you came back?"  
"Because you never tell me what you think I want to hear."  
The wind bellowed from outside, beating rain and tree branches against the window. This disturbance, however, was nothing, compared to the pounding in Iruka's chest.  
"What?"  
"I said–"  
"I know what you said," Iruka barked. The chunin shot from the couch but found nothing to say. He was stuck, trying to catch up with his racing heart. He could only stare at the Hokage, as fear overwhelmed him. Kakashi-san pushed off the counter but Iruka took a nervous step back, stopping the jounin in his tracks. "Kakashi-san…"  
"Disrespecting you was never my intention, Iruka-sensei. Finding an honest person that is willing to tolerate an elite jounin is a rare occurrence…and Pakkun says I don't want to lose that."  
"Pakkun said this," Iruka asked, the question slowly escaping him.  
"Yes," Kakashi shrugged, "and I agreed."  
Iruka froze.  
The jounin stepped forward again. "I don't want to lose this."  
"And what is this?" Iruka asked, standing his ground.  
Kakashi stopped, leaving a few good inches between them. His eye never looked anywhere far from the chunin. "I had a talk with Izumo and Kotetsu, and there's been a change in approach. I don't want either of them substituting for you," he paused. Iruka ground his teeth, preparing to strike down Kakashi-san's delusion that he had any say on who did and who didn't help substitute his class. "Starting tomorrow, things are going to go back to the way they were."  
Iruka did not expect to hear that.  
"What do you mean?"  
Then Kakashi-san smiled, or, Iruka thought he smiled, as least. "Your place is in the classroom, Iruka-sensei. That's where you're needed the most. You're the only Academy instructor to ever have an entire class of students make it on a team. Your current students deserve the same attentiveness shown to your former students, and it would be negligent of me to deprive them of that."  
Iruka was hesitant to ask, but to hear the Hokage say those things made him hopeful and yet fearful all at once. "What are you saying?"  
Kakashi's eye bore into him.  
"I can't take you away from where you belong, Iruka-sensei. Izumo and Kotetsu's work hours are far more accommodating. They can do more good at the office and in the Missions room."  
"Are you firing me?" Iruka blinked.  
"Not at all," Kakashi said quickly. "I would appreciate your input, from time to time. I still need your help."  
"You don't need my help –"  
"Fine," Kakashi-san shot back, his voice rising from its typically cool nature. "I want your help, Iruka-sensei. Forget I ever said I needed you because I want you more. I don't want another to assist me. I don't want Kotetsu and Izumo, but if this is the only way to keep you, then so be it."  
He wanted him? Iruka stared at Kakashi-san, never having seen desperation on the man's face. He thought he saw it now, though, staring back at him. But he shook that thought away. He refused to lose sight of the real problem.  
"You think this is just about the workload?"  
Kakashi stepped back, perplexed. "You admitted to feeling overwhelmed, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka laughed, clasping his hands together. He felt like a madman, trying his hardest not to reach out and shake the jounin. "Kakashi-san, I like working for you. I do. I wish I didn't, but I do. I like being able to help the Hokage–I always have, but this is not just a duty to the village for me. I like helpingyou, Kakashi-san. I enjoy your company! I like having you here, with me, and I love having the dogs –"  
"Ninken –"  
"WHATEVER! I want them here, with me. Kakashi-san," Iruka paused, taking a deep breath. "I can manage the work, but I need you to help me help you. When I come to you with documents, don't dismiss me because I'm interrupting your training. Don't put me down in front of others." Iruka slapped a hand against his forehead, dragging it down his face. "I sound like a lunatic," he muttered, shaking his head.  
"I always thought you were a bit strange, Iruka-sensei."  
"You're one to talk," Iruka snorted. "With all due respect, you drive me crazy, Kakashi-san." He tried to walk away but was just as quickly tugged back. Kakashi-san held him by the shoulder, and Iruka felt the coldness of his hand seep into the fabric of his shirt. The chunin frowned, glaring at Kakashi-san's damp clothes.  
"I do believe that's something I owe you more: respect," Kakashi-san uttered. Iruka reached up, pulling Kakashi-san's hand from his shoulder. He didn't take it away but merely held onto it, gently squeezing the clammy appendage.  
"Just…don't take advantage of me… okay?"  
"Okay."  
Iruka squeezed his hand again, before letting go.  
"Good," he said, closing his eyes. "Now… let the ninken back in, and I'll go find you some dry clothes." He sighed, producing a deranged grin.  
"As you wish, Iruka-sensei." Kakashi-san smiled, bowing quickly.  
Iruka rolled his eyes, watching the jounin make his way to the door. Then he made his own departure, heading back to his bedroom. The chunin searched through his pant and shirt drawers, knowing he'd eventually come across a pair of pants and a shirt that wasn't his but, in fact, the jounin's. When he found just that, he felt a sense of accomplishment.  
"Kakashi-san, you're in luck," Iruka called out from the hallway. "You keep leaving your clothes here, so whenever you …" then he halted, gaping at the eight, soaking wet dogs sitting on his living room carpet.  
The chunin dropped Kakashi-san's clothes.  
"What the hell happened?"  
The ninken stood in rows of two, four in each; from biggest to smallest, and they were all as equally drenched as the next one. Every now and then, one of them would shake, flinging water drops all over the walls and furniture. Iruka knelt down, picking up Kakashi-san's clothes. To bide for more time, he closed his eyes and counted to three.  
"It's fr-freakin' freezing out there," Pakkun chattered.  
Iruka looked to his water damaged floor, misery washing over him. "What happened to staying by the door?" he groaned, but the reason seemed absolutely useless at this point.  
"It's s-so lively o-out there," Pakkun chattered on. "W-we couldn't h-help o-ourselves, and w-we got a little c-c-c-carried away."  
Not to mention, Iruka knew the reason would be stupid.  
"Ah… there you are, Iruka-sensei." As if on cue, Kakashi-san peered out from the kitchen.  
Iruka stuttered with disbelief, not knowing what to do with himself.  
"Why didn't you keep them outside?"  
"Maa…You said you wanted them inside," Kakashi explained. "Ah, my clothes," he said cheerfully, taking the attire from the traumatized chunin. "I'll just go change, then…" Kakashi strolled away, but Iruka went to work, rushing to the hallway closet to acquire as many towels as he deemed necessary.  
"Get up, get up, get up, get up," he ordered, herding the ninken into the kitchen. At least their dripping wetness would be easier cleaned from a ceramic floor. He immediately went about setting down the towels, making sure to soak up as much water as possible. "Stay put," he threw over his shoulder.  
"We-we're s-s-sorry!" Guruko squeaked, but the chunin refused to respond to any apologies.  
"S-so, what d-did y-you guys t-talk about?" Bisuke managed.  
Iruka flung a towel and turned, causing the dogs to flinch.  
"You never mind that!" he snapped. "Concern yourself with what I'll do to you, if mildew starts growing under this carpet." Iruka turned back, sitting on his knees. He dabbed, repeatedly, drying up the carpet as best as he could.  
"D-did you a-ask h-him why he w-was upset l-last night?" Pakkun grumbled, subdued by the impending wrath of Umino Iruka.  
Iruka paused, eyeing the ninken guiltily. The towel in his hand went limp.  
"I forgot."  
"Forgot what?"  
"Kakashi-san…!" The chunin looked up, startled. "That was fast."  
Kakashi-san shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "What did you forget, Iruka-sensei?" he asked again.  
Iruka waved a dismissive hand.  
"Nothing important…just that I have some mats I could have put out, to avoid this."  
"Mm."  
Iruka went back to rubbing his carpet dry. Only when he saw a pair of pale hands pick up another towel did he stop again. He looked to his right, where Kakashi-san was kneeling down beside him.  
"I'm helping," the jounin said, smiling. Iruka smiled back, but he quickly went back to work. This was the only carpet he was going to have, after all, and that meant keeping it clean for as long as possible. Especially since hiring a carpenter to replace it would be out of his price range, for a while. So he kept dabbing, every now and then affording Kakashi a side glance. The older man seemed just as determined to keep his floor from getting ruined. "Here," the jounin said, handing Iruka another towel. "This one's dry."  
"Thanks," Iruka said, taking the towel. Kakashi leaned forward again but Iruka didn't start back, right away, opting to watch the jounin next to him. Not that it was rare, but catching Kakashi-san engaged in manual labor always came as a shock to the chunin. It happened, though: he would cook, and Kakashi would volunteer to tidy up the kitchen. He kept the living room spotless and the ninken clean. True, Iruka found many of the jounin's cleaning methods a bit sloppy and unethical, but he didn't mind sharing that burden.  
"You know, I don't thank you enough for all that you do here."  
"You don't?"  
"No." Iruka shook his head and sat back. He sighed, accepting that there was nothing more he could do. He pulled a few fallen strands of hair back behind his ear. At least the glaringly obvious discoloration had subsided. Iruka turned towards Kakashi-san, eyeing the jounin and his persistence. "Kakashi-san, why didn't you stay?"  
"…Mm?" The jounin reached for another towel.  
"Last night, when you treated us to a round, you didn't stay. Why didn't you?"  
"Maa," Kakashi-san leaned back as well, looking over his shoulder. Iruka saw only a profile of his face, hidden beneath a blue mask and headband. "I got the impression I wasn't very welcomed," he said.  
"Oh." Iruka stared down, at his hands that were now moist and cold. "I'm sorry you felt that way."  
A crop of silver hair tilted in response.  
"Though, I was curious," the jounin said.  
"About what?" the chunin asked.  
"You and Yamato. I wasn't aware the two of you were well acquainted." Kakashi-san leaned down again, leaving Iruka to stare blankly at his over-arching shoulders.  
"We're not," he replied, frowning. "Yamato-san thought we should get to know one another, so he offered to treat me to a meal."  
"I was going to treat you to a meal."  
"You did."  
"Ne…" Kakashi leaned back again, shaking his head. "That's why I was there. I wanted to make up for the night before, so I thought buying dinner would put me back in your good graces."  
Iruka smirked, his brow arching. "Like last time, you mean?"  
"It worked last time…why deviate from what's effective?"  
"Why indeed," Iruka said, chuckling. "Although, the meal you made this morning was better than any ramen bowl I've ever eaten."  
"Was it?"  
"Yes. It was," Iruka nodded.  
"How did you learn to cook so well?" Iruka asked. Shinobi like Kakashi-san, who lived off mission rations for most of their career, weren't known for their culinary skills. Good tasting food didn't factor into survival, which had to be why ration bars and energy pellets tasted so foul. Iruka believed mission food deadened the taste buds, thusly, deadening the ability to distinguish between food made to maintain stamina and food made to be enjoyed.  
Kakashi-san must have figured out how to combine the two necessities.  
"…The same way I presumed you did, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi replied. "I was orphaned, and there was no one to take care of me. So I took care of myself."  
"Of course," Iruka muttered, troubled by the reminder. His recollection of raising himself was a troublesome thought. Growing up alone… "At least you had the ninken, Kakashi-san. Some kind of family has to be better than no family at all."  
"I agree," Kakashi said. "Ma…does Take have any family?"  
"What? No… Why?"  
"Just curious, is all…"  
Iruka stared at Kakashi. He doubted the jounin was just curious about anything, especially when he was so adamant about being indifferent. But Iruka leaned forward, playing along. He reached across Kakashi-san, grabbing hold of another towel. "Did you happen to run into him, Kakashi-san?"  
"I…may have bumped into him," the jounin muttered, "for a few minutes or so. Maybe just a minute. Not even a minute– just a second, if I recall correctly."  
Iruka smirked. "And what did the two of you discuss, in this second?"  
Kakashi-san turned to look at him. With their faces so near, Iruka could clearly see the outline of a smile underneath his mask. It caused his breath to fall short and his heart to race rapidly. It was then he realized how close they really were, kneeling side-by-side; their arms brushed up against each other, elbows linked, and Iruka could feel the sway of Kakashi-san's body.  
"…Take said that you said that I was one of the greatest Shinobi of our time. He also said that you said that I was brilliant."  
Iruka's cheeks were burning now. He thought that his face might catch fire.  
Kakashi leaned forward, his one visible eye sufficient enough to search Iruka's pair. "Mm, did you say those things, Iruka-sensei?"  
"I said those things." Iruka swallowed hard.  
Kakashi-san's eye shifted downward. "Did you mean what you said, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Yes…" Kakashi-san looked up again, the intensity of his gaze strengthening. Iruka wanted to look anywhere but at the man's probing stare, but he didn't. Easily readable, easily read, the chunin felt exposed to the legendary Copy Nin, and yet he remained determined to meet the jounin halfway. "I meant everything I told him, Kakashi-san."  
"After the way I've treated you, would you still think that…"  
"Regardless of how you've treated me, Kakashi-san; that doesn't change the truth." Iruka frowned, pinching the hair behind his earlobe. "I mean, I wish it did. I could have told him that you have a knack for being an inconsiderate, juvenile, self-centered ass, although, that hardly does justice to all the good in you," the chunin sneered, but he had to bite his bottom lip to stop from grinning.  
Kakashi's brow ascended into his hairline. "Well, I'm glad you decided to go with the latter, then..."  
A very loud, very gruff cough caught their attention. Iruka and Kakashi sat back against their legs, simultaneously, amused by the way Pakkun's fur stood on end.  
"Well, it's n-nice to see the two of you remember we exist!" he growled.  
"I don't recall remembering you exist," Kakashi said skeptically, tapping his chin. He turned to Iruka. "Do you, Iruka-sensei?"  
"I have no idea what it's talking about." Iruka shrugged and closed his eyes. "Ninken come and go, you know…you can't expect me to know their names, much less remember they exist."  
"Iruka," Pakkun whimpered, lowering his jowls against his front paws. "Why do you have to be so cruel? You're turning into him," he said, glaring at Kakashi-san.  
"Eight dogs, all of whom knew they were soaking wet, decided to prance into my home and soil the carpet."  
"B-b-but Kakashi! He let us in!"  
"Ne…don't bring me into this," Kakashi-san sighed lazily.  
Iruka crossed his arms and scoffed. "Unlike Kakashi-san, I expect consideration and some actual thought from you."  
Kakashi-san's shoulders sunk. "Why do you have to be so cruel, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Kakashi-san," Iruka said sharply, gaining the Hokage's undivided attention. "The ninken need to be washed, before they end up drying like that."  
"Right." Kakashi-san stood, collecting as many soiled towels along the way, while Iruka's stern gaze followed him into the kitchen. "Listen up," the jounin began, leaning against the kitchen counter. "The longer it takes you to get from here to the bathroom, the more water you track. The more water track, the angrier Iruka-sensei will be. The angrier Iruka-sensei is, well…you're on your own, after that. So, it is my advice to you that you run, faster than you've ever ran in your entire life."  
They were a blur to Iruka, racing by at top speeds. Only when the last frenzied tail disappeared into the bathroom did their well composed owner walk by.  
"I'll have them clean in no time, Iruka-sensei."  
"Thank you," Iruka said, picking up another towel. "Oh, I almost forgot." Kakashi-san turned, hands in pockets. "Yamanaka-san came by the office, yesterday. He said he needed to speak with you, urgently."  
The carefree stare on Kakashi-san's face turned, strained in a way that Iruka couldn't explain.  
"Did he explain why?"  
But, of course, the jounin's voice remained cool and calm.  
Iruka frowned. "N-no…but he urged that he speak with you, A-S-A-P."  
"Maa…that's good." Kakashi nodded, walking away.  
"Kakashi-san?"  
Kakashi-san stopped again. "Yes, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka watched him, worry now melding with his curiosity.  
"What really happened to your robes?" he asked.  
Kakashi-san turned, one last time, smiling. He reached behind his head, in that usual nervous manner of his, and ruffled what silver strands were there at his disposal.  
"I set them on fire," he said.  
Then he walked away.  
Iruka sat in a daze. The bathroom door shut close long before the chunin realized he was gaping at nothing but an empty hallway.  
Chapter Fifteen  
"We found this, near the Hatake compound," Inoichi said, his face twisted in a vehemence the jounin could not emulate for several reasons. Still, he looked down, eyeing Konoha's security squad's new find with feigned interest. "Can you confirm that these are yours, Kakashi-san?"  
"Am I wearing them, Inoichi-san?"  
"Mm." Yamanaka Inoichi glanced at the Rokudaime, eyeing his jounin attire with some consideration. "We had to be certain," he answered. "Someone could have easily replicated the design to advance their message."  
"Which is?"  
"We're not certain of that, just yet."  
Both men looked back to the examining table. Inoichi looked absolutely infuriated, much to Kakashi's amusement. The two Anbu keeping guard –though their faces remained hidden beneath their respective animal aliases, Kakashi could tell that, from their statuesquely rigged posture, they felt this matter crucial.  
Mitarashi Anko, however, appeared disinterested, sitting cross-legged on a nearby examining table. Every now and then, she would produce a rather noisy sigh and repeatedly prop her chin on the palm of her hand.  
"The desecration of any property or possessions owned by a previous Hokage or a sitting one, symbolic or otherwise, is a national offense. Such dishonor is to be met with swift punishment that is equal to the severity of the damage as well as the intent."  
Kakashi nodded along, having had Konoha's laws and penal code engraved into his mind during his Academy days. He reached down, pinching a few charred, water damaged remains between his thumb and index finger. "What do you believe was the intent of this, Inoichi-san?"  
"Don't touch it," the older man scolded, disturbed by the breach in protocol. "This is filed as evidence and shouldn't be contaminated until further analysis."  
Kakashi frowned. One lazy eye gazed at what remained of his Hokage apparel, and the torched batch of straw wearing them. To say that his contempt for the garbs was ill-concealed would have been an understatement. "But they're my clothes. Regardless of who has tampered with them, it is safe to say that my prints will be all over them."  
"True," Inoichi agreed, "but for the sake of keeping accurate data, we shouldn't confuse the chain of evidence. From what we've examined, so far, there's no question that the perpetrator had fashioned this scarecrow into your likeness, so as to use you as his "opponent"," Inoichi paused, eyeing the burlap sack that was the scarecrow's patchy, crooked face with disgust.  
"There's also the matter of how the perpetrator came into possession of your robes, Kakashi-san."  
Inoichi pierced him with his blue-eyed stare, silently questioning how something as personal as someone's clothes could end up in the hands of another.  
"Ma…that's a query," Kakashi hummed.  
"It's a serious inquiry, one we should give a thorough investigation. I find it hard to believe a theft would go over the Hokage's head, especially, theft of the very clothes he's wearing."  
"Well, I think I can explain that," Kakashi gripped his chin. "I've been wearing my Hokage robes far less, lately, which would give anyone ample opportunity to take them from me."  
"That theory would suggest that the culprit has access to your private quarters, Kakashi-san: where you frequent, where you live." Inoichi straightened out his pedigree trench coat, sighing. "And, as you are our national figurehead, the disturbance of those properties and their artifacts is a matter of national security."  
"It's quite possible that this culprit broke into my apartment, suffered through a series of mortally fatal traps and managed to come out, unscathed, having stolen my clothes only to use my likeness for target practice." Kakashi looked away.  
Inoichi furrowed his brow. "It's difficult to tell when you're being facetious, Kakashi-san."  
"I'm being facetious," Kakashi clarified.  
Anko snorted, her distant chuckles muffled against her hand.  
"Still," Kakashi continued, shrugging his hands into his pockets. "That someone would have the opportunity to break into my private quarters is the most logical conclusion, Inoichi-san." He offered a serious response, knowing that a hardened man as painfully serious as Inoichi would only tolerate a younger man's humor for so long. "In the last few months, I can honestly say that I've inhabited my home less than a few dozen occasions and for only a short period each time."  
Anko jumped off the table, approaching. "Don't you ever sleep?" she scoffed.  
"Glad to see you've finally decided to join us," Inoichi stated, his voice tight. "Although, it would be refreshing to see some ounce of formality out of you…"  
"He doesn't care," the purple-haired woman said, pointing a thumb in Kakashi's direction.  
"She's right," Kakashi shrugged. "I don't care. What's she doing here?"  
The tokubetsu jounin gripped her hips and rolled her eyes. "Believe me; if I knew it was gonna start out this boring, I would have never showed up. I'm just expecting to get something out of this," she grinned.  
Kakashi lifted a fine silver brow, eyeing Anko with great caution. He'd known her, for many years, to be a proficient tracker and a superb Kunoichi. She was also the most outrageously tiring woman he'd ever met, and that left him both intrigued and annoyed to see her.  
"I'd just like to take this opportunity to congratulate you on making it to Hokage, Kakashi-san."  
"Ne…you make it sound like I auditioned, or something."  
"Well, you did look the part: looking all handsome and whatnot, standing on the deck," she leaned forward and winked.  
"A member of Anko-san's squad found the scarecrow, this morning," Inoichi sighed, forcefully.  
Anko straightened up, glaring at the older man.  
"Yeah, alright," she groused, looking back to the Hokage. "Cam-'corders and other security measures are prohibited from clan grounds, you see," Anko scowled at the thought, "but no worry. Folks from the marketplace said they could see smoke rising from the south, before the rain started and snuffed it out. Also, security frequencies picked up two chakra signatures, last night, roaming the surrounding forest. Whoever's behind this won't be at large, for very long."  
"That's nice," Kakashi said. "Two signatures?"  
"Two," Anko nodded, holding up two fingers. "If any others existed, they were skillfully concealed. The two that we did pick up were laughably ill-disguised, if disguised at all." She smirked, circling Kakashi like a common predator. "Wherever you spend your time must be a hell of a place, if a couple of morons were given ample time to break into your apartment."  
"If I may ask, Kakashi-sama…" Inoichi interjected, eyeing Anko with unrestrained annoyance. "What is the status of your home?"  
"In what regard," Kakashi said.  
"Even if the Hokage spends most of his time at the office," Kakashi mentally cringed, "his estate should remain a stronghold of security. Considering that it is you, Kakashi-san, I didn't think this would ever be a concern."  
"Ne…?" Kakashi ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't aware that it was."  
"Your apartment complex, on the north end of the village."  
"What about it?"  
"Is that your permanent residence?"  
"Yes."  
"But you're never home."  
"No."  
"From what I gathered yesterday, you're rarely at the office."  
"Too right you are."  
"Then where are you, Kakashi-san?"  
The jounin gazed idly at the man, but both Inoichi and Anko watched him, expecting some kind of answer. To teammates, to colleagues, to his Anbu squad and even his genin team, curiosity over his whereabouts was a common trait. It was also very common of him to lie; make an excuse, provide and anecdote that, usually, had absolutely nothing to do with anything at all. He thought about doing the same, now, not at all obligated to reveal where he preferred to spend his time. Only, where it once was the Memorial Stone or roaming the outskirts of Konoha or, simply, at his apartment taking an extensive amount of time out of his day to read his Icha Icha, it was not the Memorial stone or his home, but at Iruka's where he now spent most of his time.  
Kakashi believed the chunin to be a rather open individual. Iruka liked to spend his free time amongst crowds and enjoyed the company of others, more so than himself; so much more so that there was a time, after the war, when Kakashi had the Academy sensei relay his day, working with mutual acquaintances, while Kakashi volunteered to scope the village, alone. Yet, the jounin took none of this into consideration because, in some strange twist of irony, Iruka also proved to be a very private person.  
Inoichi-san was taking this very seriously; therefore, lying would be an imprudent decision that would, most likely, result in hours of wasted manpower. He could not also shrug this off as he usually would, knowing that he was not alone but, in fact, speaking for the whereabouts of two people: himself and Iruka, and he doubted the chunin would appreciate his home falling under the scrutiny of Konoha's security squad.  
"That's none of your concern," Kakashi finally said. His gaze turned cold, shifting between the interrogator and tokubetsu jounin.  
"Fair enough," Inoichi said, not at all put-off. "However, you must be aware of the Anbu squadron assigned to track your every step. Surely it would do no harm to provide the SS a blueprint of your daily routine."  
"Anbu live by a code of silence," Kakashi remarked, sharply, giving two nods of respect to the Anbu guards present. "The security squad functions under no such code."  
"Well, there goes my fun," Anko sneered, her eyes drifting away.  
Kakashi had had enough. "If there are no other important matters to attend to –"  
"Kakashi, this is a matter of grave importance!"  
Oh, Kakashi was just waiting to hear that line.  
"Is it any coincidence that a scarecrow, clothed in your robes and meticulously made to look like an exact replica of the Rokudaime, was placed in front of the Hatake compound; beaten, battered, and burned?" Such a notion left Inoichi unconvinced. "Were it simply a matter of theft, we could write this off as an isolated incident. However, it would seem that knowledge of your residence has been discovered.  
"A hierarchy keeps record of Shinobi residents, and only personal disclosure would affect that order, but the two chakra signatures indicated by Mitarashi-san would suggest that two extremely unskilled Shinobi managed to break into your home, steal your possessions, and dishonor your family land."  
"That's some coincidence," Anko commented, good-naturedly.  
"This is no isolated incident, Kakashi-san. This was symbolic, an incident that might occur time and time again, if we don't take necessary precautions."  
"So who do you believe is behind this, Yamanaka-san?" Anko asked a foreign strand of sternness in her eyes.  
Inoichi's gaze shifted between the two. "A potential threat to the Hokage or Konoha, hell-bent on proving their superiority in light of the village's crippled manpower; lingering troops of Madara's followers or, perhaps, the very individual responsible for Tsunade-sama's death."  
There was a well-deserved pause, where Kakashi looked between his colleagues with a considerable amount of annoyance. "You told her," he said at last.  
"Hey!" Offended, Anko leaned into her hip. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here."  
Inoichi didn't falter. "Yes," he said, challenging the younger man's moody stare, "I told her."  
"It was necessary to inform a head member of the security squad," Kakashi stated, having already put the pieces together.  
"Precisely. A security team has already been instructed to keep routine tabs on every entry and exit point of Konohagakure. Furthermore…" Inoichi turned to Anko, some small form of satisfaction threatening to mar his perfectly severe features. "Anko had insight on the potential murderer, insight that I believe may correspond with your undisclosed suspect, Kakashi-san."  
"When Yamanaka-san spoke of foul-play, I quickly turned to the archives to see if anything showed up on tape."  
"What did you find?" Kakashi asked.  
Anko answered with pulling a scroll of pictures from her pocket, spreading four of them out on the edge of the examining table. Each one had been extracted from video footage, depicting a different angle of virtually the same image in a grainy resolution so to keep obscure by the standards of lay men and women. But the three varying degrees of jounin looked to the photographs, sizing up their interior contents for every ounce of evidence, however insignificant.  
Kakashi instantly recognized the room in the photos to be the Hokage chambers; his chambers, as it was.  
"There," Anko said, indicating the dark shadow captured in all four photos with the tip of her fingernail. "The subject is human, moving at an accelerated rate, which suggests highly sophisticated genetic manipulation. At regular speed, the subject appears like a phantom, much faster than even the most proficient flash-step. But frequency sensors picked up a faint chakra that was not of Tsunade-sama's, so we slowed the rate of the video and managed to get a good image at what we're looking at."  
"He, or she, is wearing a hooded cloak," Kakashi said. He picked up a photo, one where the subject had, unknowingly, turned towards the camera. "What did you find out about this person?"  
"I thought you'd never ask," Anko sneered, bewildering the silver haired jounin. "We ran the tapes through Digital Perspective Analysis Rendering and discovered these keys identifiers: this individual stands at a height of 5'8", weighs roughly 65kg and, found from his chakra signature, was an Earth element nature type."  
"Was," Kakashi repeated. Labeling the culprit as "Deceased" was a premature assumption, especially as he himself believed Tsunade's murderer to be very much alive.  
"I know you're familiar with these numbers," Anko said.  
Kakashi nodded. "That I am. Should I assume…?"  
She nodded grimly, staring at the images. "Frequency lines, heat sensors, and affinity detectors do not lie. My team and I, along with the scientists we enlisted to assist, found it strange that a body moving at such undetectable speeds would produce a heart rate of only 7.4 beats per minute. The average low for a Shinobi is 28, and that's at rest. A heart rate of 7.4 beats in an active person, at this speed, would suggest comatose or death. So the science jocks told me that the subject in these photos couldn't have lasted more than a few hours, not to mention the heat sensors also picked a body temperature so low it would have induced cardiac arrest and, eventually, death."  
"The Shikon no Jutsu," Kakashi interjected. "The Dead Soul technique that creates the illusion of a living person by reanimating a corpse…such a technique is the specialty of only one user, to date." He looked between his fellow jounin. "I take it this is the real reason you requested my presence."  
"As I said," Inoichi sighed, "the scarecrow was found earlier this morning. I came looking for you yesterday afternoon, when we found this lead on the nature of Tsunade-sama's death."  
"Which is the real reason I'm here!" Anko said brightly.  
Kakashi's shoulders sunk and his eye moped. "Meh…I must say that I have yet to experience a meeting more misleading than this one."  
"Kakashi, I can track down Kabuto, and you know it!" Anko growled.  
"Maa...this is not up for discussion," the jounin retaliated. "Sending another team out after him will result in a fruitless effort, wasting manpower that Konoha cannot afford. Just like last time."  
"W-wait a minute," Inoichi cut in, his voice rising. "You suspected Yakushi Kabuto and said nothing?"  
Anko side-stepped the older man, even going so far as to move in front of him and separate the two men.  
"If it hadn't been for my team, last time, we would have never caught up to Kabuto's hideout. We would have never gathered enough intel to predict Madara's advance, and Yamato-san would have been dead, left at the hands of that snake!  
"Kakashi, he's toying with us!" she hissed, jabbing a merciless finger against one of the photos. "He knew that, as Hokage, you'd be aware of these findings and that he chose a corpse with height, weight, and nature type similar to his own…" Anko shook her head. "He knew you would know these things about him. He wants you to know that this is his handiwork, and he's rubbing it in your face."  
"And yet I'm the one who remains untroubled with the prospect of waiting," Kakashi drawled. "Yes, I suspected Kabuto," he said to Inoichi, "and, as of now, the most logical strategy at our disposal is to make good use of the time we have. Kabuto's actions have proven two things: that he believes himself very much at large and that the odds are in his favor. He'll do anything and everything in his power to prove that he escaped the war, unharmed, and is growing more powerful with every passing day. The lingering remnants of Madara's followers, as well as his own, only fuel his delusion.  
"Maa…" Kakashi looked away. "Give it a week or two, and you'll see," he shrugged. "Kabuto will, most likely, have his men stage a struggle; lead a pathetic attack on the outskirts that will have Konoha teams sent out and leave the village rattled with fear of the unknown. That's when we hone in on his whereabouts that, due to his nature, will be heavily close to the incident. Anko-san."  
"Mm," she nodded.  
"That's when you and your team will track him down and bring him back to the village for persecution. Inoichi-san."  
"Kakashi-san," Inoichi nodded, coming from behind the brash woman.  
"At that time, I want you and Ibiki-san to assemble your strongest team of interrogators. I want not an inch of his mind left un-probed and not an ounce of his life undiscovered. I want his privacy dismembered and his sense of security dismantled, until the mental strain drives him to insanity. I want him to wish for death, a fate we will never grant him."  
Inoichi and Anko looked to one another, their wide-eyed expressions betraying their surprise.  
"Ne… Can I go now?" Kakashi asked, but his feet had long since started towards the examination room's double-door exit.  
"What about the scarecrow, Kakashi-san? What about the theft?" Inoichi asked.  
"Inoichi-san, proceed as you see fit. I trust you to take all necessary safety precautions," Kakashi said; although, he would have liked nothing more than to see those clothes and that scarecrow mysteriously disappear, before it ever reached evidence. "Anko-san, do these tapes show the subject actively spiking Tsunade-sama's sake bottle with the strain that killed her?"  
"Yes…sir," Anko nodded, her tone strained.  
Kakashi threw over his shoulder, "I want copies sent to my office so that I may review them myself. Also," he paused, his gloved hands gripping the door handle. He turned, leaning on the door and eyeing the two jounin. Then his gray orb zeroed in on Anko, narrowing. "The surveillance equipment used in the Hokage's quarters… are they still active?"  
The Copy Nin was satisfied to see the woman shake her head 'No'.  
"They're dismantled, after the seat of every Hokage. That gives the arriving Hokage the option of whether they'd like their quarters watched. If you'd like, you could put in a request with me, and I'll have a –"  
"No. That won't be necessary," Kakashi said, smiling his one-eyed smile. "Thank you, Inoichi-san and Anko-san, for bringing me up-to-date. Ordering other Shinobi around isn't my thing, unless I'm the leader of a team, so dismiss yourself if you'd like."  
On that note, the Rokudaime was gone, and the double-doors shuffled behind him; back and forth, before, eventually, coming to a stand-still.  
Anko looked to Inoichi, flustered. "Well, that was unexpected," she huffed, leaning against the table.  
"Agreed," Inoichi said, but he didn't tear his eyes from the door, just yet. "When it was first revealed that Hatake had been nominated to become Rokudaime, I have to admit: I had my reservations. Even when Nara Shikaku, a good friend of mine, convinced me otherwise, I still had my doubts." Inoichi turned to Anko, a noncommittal smirk crinkling across his thin-lipped mouth. "Looks to me like Kakashi-san just might prove a strong leader, after all. Granted, he does have a rather uncouth way of going about matters."  
"So says you," Anko mumbled, staring down at the scarecrow. "It's just my day, isn't it? Not only was an "All You Can Eat Dango Buffet" at the sweets shop canceled, because of the rain, but I didn't get my mission! Wait, my ass."  
She growled.  
"Then I had to stand here and listen to Hatake Kakashi speak of torture?" Anko leaned forward, dragging her hands down her face. "I don't know about you, but that scared the crap out of me. I've never heard Hatake talk like that."  
"It's the nature of the job," Inoichi grumbled. "It cannot be helped."  
"Whatever," Anko mumbled, slapping a hand against her mouth. "You know, people said he changed after the war, but I never imagined how much until now."  
Inoichi stared at the double-doors again with furrowed brow. "Kakashi-san had a personal interest with all parties involved, in this last war. To not have changed after the tragedies that befell him would have been unfortunate."  
"If you say so…" Anko walked away. "I'll see you around, Yamanaka-san, "she waved.  
"Mitarashi…wait."  
"What's up," she turned quickly, giving the older man one of her flashiest smiles.  
"Follow him."  
She frowned, bewildered. "What? The Rokudaime?"  
"Yes."  
"With a team?"  
"No, no," Inoichi waved that idea away. "You alone. I want you to track that man, even if he catches on; even if he sends you on a chase…" Inoichi paused, reconsidering his approach. "This is still a matter of security," he said, pointing towards the scarecrow. "The SS should have a clear idea of where Kakashi spends his time, so as to prevent any undesirable incidents."  
"Like an assassination attempt."  
"Of course."  
Anko thought about it for a second, before shrugging. "Well, anyone wanting to kill that guy's definitely got their work cut out for them."  
"That's not the point." Inoichi waved that idea away with an even firmer hand. "I am requesting that you, a lead member of the squad, follow the Hokage, so that all his movements are accounted for. I don't care if he gambles or spends his days drowning in a bar, or if he spends all of his time at some brothel. Just find him and keep note of it."  
"You got it." Anko saluted him off before, she too, disappeared behind the double-doors.  
"Ha…" Inoichi sighed, leaning up against the steel slab. He glanced at the scarecrow again, its crude and now blackened features, and rubbed a hand over his temple. "Man, do I feel old."

Kakashi took his sandals off, before he stepped inside, and quickly tossed them into the kitchen. The rain had subsided, from a downpour to a light trickle, but the damage had already been done. Iruka's disdain for tracking water on the floor would pale in comparison, if Kakashi was found trailing in the mud and fallen leaves of outside. An open window meant quick access, in Kakashi's apartment, but in Iruka's, and on a rainy day such as this, it spelled trouble. So he wisely made use of the door, closing it behind him.  
"Your move," Pakkun said.  
Iruka took a look at the board, the cogs in his mind rotating with calculated thought. That's when he made another tactful decision, putting the pug's lance in jeopardy. At the same time, the chunin found Pakkun's king under simultaneous threat. If Pakkun had any intention of winning, at this point, he'd have no other option but to save his king and sacrifice his lance.  
"You're in check," Iruka smirked, unable to contain his satisfaction. He could only hope that Pakkun's next move was a hasty miscalculation.  
"You sneaky youngster, you," Pakkun grumbled under his breath, pressing his paw against the king wedge. With the majority of his men off the table, or in Iruka's troop, he could easily glide his piece into its next position. For movements that required jumping, it was Iruka who assisted, equipped to do so with his opposable thumbs.  
Kakashi came forward, disrobing of his flak jacket and tossing it on the kitchen counter. His bare feet sunk into the floor, where the carpet remained slightly damp but far better off than earlier that morning. He stood to the side, taking note of the imperfect circle surrounding the coffee table. Iruka sat on the floor, with his legs folded and his back up against the edge of the couch. The jounin's ninken followed suit, with Bull and Urushi flanking the chunin on both sides, while Bisuke sat in his lap. Uhei and Akino sat on either ends, leaving Shiba and Guruko to flank notoriously sore loser and Iruka's current opponent, Pakkun.  
Their eyes were glued to the board, their attentions possessed by the Shogi game.  
The Hokage had to clear his throat, in order to get someone to acknowledge his arrival. While Pakkun searched, in vain, to find a maneuver that wouldn't ruin him, Iruka glanced up, wearing the cheeky grin of a victorious player.  
"You're back," Iruka said, gleefully.  
"Ma," Kakashi knelt down, "and you're winning," he hummed, taking a seat between Bull and Uhei.  
"That's nothing new," Bull said, causing a fervid blush to rise in Iruka's face. "He already beat me and Guruko."  
"He didn't beat me," Guruko whined. "I forfeited."  
"Because you knew you were going to lose," Bull heaved, lapping his tongue over his nose.  
"Your move," Pakkun grumbled, again, visibly uncertain of his previous move. That's when he realized, as Kakashi and Iruka had long ago, that he had made a miscalculation. "No, wait a second…!"  
"Checkmate." Iruka had Pakkun's king cornered to where there was no move he could make to save it.  
"You know what? I quit." Pakkun pounded his paw against the table, before leaping away.  
"I forgot how much of a sore loser you can be, Pakkun," the chunin smiled, chuckling. Pakkun held his head up high and turned away, before climbing under the table. "Anymore challengers?" Iruka asked, but the question went without response. Kakashi saw that the idea of going up against Iruka in a game of Shogi had traumatized his ninken. They all looked away, whimpering, their gazes shifting in discomfort.  
"Can I play?" Kakashi asked Iruka.  
"Of course," Iruka smiled.  
Kakashi took Pakkun's place, after Shiba and Uhei switched spots with him. He sat in the same manner as Iruka, with his legs folded, but hunched over his longer torso. The two went about resetting the table, in comfortable silence.  
That's when Pakkun reappeared from beneath the table, climbing into Kakashi's lap. "The sore loser reemerges," Kakashi said, watching the pug situate himself. Iruka looked over, laughing.  
"You two are too clever, for my blood," Pakkun stated, pressing his front paws against Kakashi's calves. "I'm never playing against either of you, ever again."  
"Better luck next time, Pakkun."  
"There's not gonna be a next time." Pakkun pouted.  
"Sure thing," Iruka smirked, his gaze falling on Kakashi. The jounin looked back, smiling. The Academy sensei glowed with mirth and energy that he hadn't seen in some time. Iruka seemed happy which, in turn, left Kakashi quite content.  
Iruka continued to set up for a new match, picking systematically at the fallen pieces of the previous game, and Kakashi watched him as he went.  
The last few days could not have been farther from today than in this moment, and Kakashi could not have anticipated his luck. He lay awake, all last night, awaiting the moment Iruka would see him and kick him out. But the chunin hadn't. Instead, as he recalled, Iruka provided him a cover to use, a cover he couldn't have appreciated more. Then his ninken appeared or, at least, a few of them had. Watching the chunin now, in his domain of Shogi playing, Kakashi couldn't help but think that that had been Iruka's doing as well.  
That Iruka would tell him to leave again was a critical possibility. There were plenty of other times where Kakashi believed it in his best interest to kick himself out, lest he be subjected to the entirety of Iruka's fury. However, the night before was different. When Iruka told him to leave, it wasn't anger Kakashi detected but exhaustion. Iruka was tired.  
Of him.  
Kakashi didn't want Iruka to tire of him, to move on to another person….like Yamato. Kakashi frowned, watching Iruka now with uncertainty. The memory of seeing the two of them together still puzzled Kakashi, to where the very thought of Team 7's captain was a troublesome endeavor. He'd rather see Yamato on some mission, far far away, rather than allow the other man to waste what free time Iruka had at his disposal. Such free time could certainly be far better spent with him.  
"It's your move, Kakashi-san," Iruka said, the sound of his voice dismantling his thoughts. Indeed it was his turn, as the black player. Kakashi made his first move without much thought, advancing a pawn one step forward.  
The ninken watched on, silently, eager to see how the game would play out.  
"Have you been enjoying yourself, today," Kakashi asked, awaiting Iruka's first move.  
The chunin sighed and smiled, and the first few faint rays of sunlight shined through his living room window.  
"The day is getting better and better, with every passing second. Thank you." The white player made his first move, watching Kakashi for his reaction. "How was your meeting?"  
Kakashi shrugged, advancing another pawn. "It was a meeting. Ma, I'm not particularly fond of them, but you, Iruka-sensei, think they're important. That seems to me a good enough reason to attend them. Your move."  
Iruka shook his head, chuckling. "That's good enough for me, Kakashi-san," he said, advancing his bishop two squares. "What was the meeting about? Or…" Iruka faltered, running his fingers across Bisuke's scalp. "Am I questioning things that are above my pay grade, again." Iruka looked to the board, staring at the pieces.  
Iruka's frown was slight, but he kept his eyes fixed on the game.  
Kakashi pressed two fingers against his rook, sliding it behind his pawn. "Iruka-sensei," he said Iruka's name, as strongly as he could, but, the fear or grief in those eyes darting, back and forth, across the board left the jounin soft-spoken. "Iruka."  
Iruka looked to him, eventually, the lack of formality unnerving, but Kakashi found that it came quite natural to him.  
"You're an Academy instructor and I'm the Rokudaime... I know there've been times when I've used my rank as a means to demonstrate my superiority over you and, for that, there is no excuse." Kakashi looked to the Shogi board, Iruka's wide-eyed gawking causing him great discomfort. Not that he would admit to that. It was not every day he tried, unsuccessfully, to explain himself to another. But to make up for his disrespect, he felt he owed Iruka this much, more than anyone else Kakashi knew. "There's not much I would want to keep from you."  
Iruka looked down and up, down and up, watching the movement of his bishop and Kakashi's one-eyed gaze. "But you have to," the chunin concluded.  
Kakashi nodded. "There are things about this job that are on a need-to-know basis, only. There are also things about being the Hokage that I'd rather not tell you about," like ordering the simultaneous execution of forty people, Kakashi thought regretfully. He was unable to stop himself. "When I withhold information from you, it's not because you're a pre-genin sensei –not really," he admitted, moving another pawn. "I feel that there are things that are in your best interest not to know." Kakashi looked up, expecting Iruka to take his turn. "It's your move, Iruka-sensei."  
"Uh, y-yeah…" Iruka looked to the board again, his face flushed.  
Kakashi smiled, an opportunity to tease the chunin opening up to him. "Iruka-sensei."  
"Yes, Kakashi-san," Iruka replied, moving another pawn. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red.  
"I think I prefer calling you 'Iruka' and not 'Iruka-sensei'. May I call you 'Iruka', Iruka-sensei?"  
"…"  
"In private, of course. If it pleases you, Iruka-sensei, I'll continue to call you Iruka-sensei in public."  
"I don't think that's a good idea…" Iruka trailed off. "It's your move, Kakashi-san."  
"Call me Kakashi." Iruka sighed and laughed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "What?"  
"Kakashi-san, we've had this discussion before. You are the Hokage and, no matter what our personal relation to one another, your position calls for a certain amount of respect. I-I can't just go around calling you by your first name only!"  
"Then don't," Kakashi uttered in a lazy sigh. "Call me by my first name, when we're alone, where it doesn't matter that I'm Hokage." Iruka waited, desperately, for Kakashi to make his next move, but the jounin was determined to stall. "Would it do any harm to try it, just once, Iruka?"  
Iruka's face was stained a permanent red now.  
"Come on Iruka," Bisuke whispered, pawing at the chunin's stomach. "Just try it once."  
"Kakashi," he mumbled.  
"What was that, Iruka?" Kakashi asked.  
Iruka looked up, flustered. "Kakashi," he snapped.  
"See?" Kakashi smiled. "Was that so hard?"  
"You are such an ass."  
"Maa…so you've told me before," Kakashi hummed, moving his own bishop up one square. "Your move."  
Iruka gave him a suspicious glare, before searching the board for his next move. "Why does it matter," he breathed.  
"Why does what matter, Iruka?"  
Iruka watched the jounin, a blank expression failing to conceal his uncertainty. "Why does it matter what we call one another? What difference would it make, calling you Kakashi instead of Kakashi-sama or Kakashi-san?"  
Kakashi frowned. He wasn't all that sure, himself, other than knowing that he enjoyed the way Iruka's face heated up, embarrassed by being addressed on first-name-basis only. Also, Kakashi enjoyed the way Iruka's name rolled off the tip of his tongue.  
The jounin shrugged.  
"…We're friends, aren't we? Don't friends call each other by their first names?"  
"Friends…" Iruka looked to him, with a wavering smile. This worried Kakashi. Were they no longer friends? "That's something friends can do…Kakashi." Iruka moved his bishop forward again, capturing one of Kakashi's pawns. "I'm letting you know right now: I intend on promoting this," the chunin smirked, wiggling the wedge about.  
"Damn," Kakashi murmured, but one loss in a board game had very little impact on the swelling sensation he felt in his chest. "Ne… I'll try not to hold that against you," he muttered, watching the board, intently. With the first casualty being a member of his own set, Kakashi began to focus more of his attention on the game and less of it on the way the sun illuminated the rich brown color of Iruka's eyes.  
"Kakashi?"  
"Yes, Iruka?"  
The two shared an amused glance.  
"If there were things you'd rather not speak of, because of their nature…if something was troubling you, y-you'd tell me, right?" Kakashi moved another pawn, with the intention of bringing his rook out to the center of the board. "Being the Hokage doesn't mean you have to go it alone. You have support."  
"I know." Kakashi looked to the chunin again, smiling.  
Kakashi wasn't just agreeing, either. He truly knew.  
"It's your move, Iruka."  
Iruka nodded, hesitantly, returning his attention to their game.  
Kakashi's smile fell, considering Iruka's words with some apprehension, but set his concerns aside for another day. It'd been some time since he'd last played a game of Shogi with the chunin. Not since long before his promotion to Hokage and Tsunade-sama's passing.  
It was pleasant.  
He looked to his ninken, trying to remember the last time he was in their company for such a long length of time as this. As Kakashi's one true competitor for Iruka's attention, they had finally managed to keep their traps shut, for once. They were watching Iruka as well, awaiting his next move.  
Kakashi turned his sight towards the window, noting the bright blue sky hiding behind a few cotton-like clouds.  
"Ma…looks like the weather's taken a turn for the better," he said. "When we end our game, would you like to go for a walk through the marketplace, Iruka?"  
Iruka gazed up, pleasantly surprised. "I'd love to, Kakashi."  
"Good."  
"Hey, can we go?" Pakkun asked, looking up at the jounin.  
Kakashi shrugged. "I don't see why not. You know the restaurants give nin animals free food."  
"You're the best, Kakashi!" Guruko jumped up, nuzzling his nose against the jounin's shoulder. Uhei and Shiba did the same, as all the ninken went into an uproar of excitement.  
"Finally, you treat us with love!" Shiba yelled.  
"Thanks boss!"  
"Yeah! You're the greatest!"  
"I'm getting' some pork barbecue!"  
Kakashi patted down their coats and tolerated their embraces, all the while regretting that he'd ever made the suggestion to begin with. "Now, now. Get off of me."  
"You certainly said the right thing, Kakashi," Iruka laughed.  
Kakashi eyed his ninken wearily. "I figured keeping track of all of us would make her work a bit more."  
Iruka frowned. "Make who work a bit more? What 'her'?"  
"Maa…"Kakashi scratched the back of his head, fully succumbing to the weight of his ninken. He fell back but quickly propelled himself up on the palms of his hands. "I guess I forgot to mention this, but, Anko-san's been watching us."  
"What?"  
"It looks like she'll be following us, for the rest of the day."  
Chapter Sixteen  
"I wouldn't worry too much, Sakura. These things can be postponed… I'm sure an arrangement can be made," Yamato said, looking over the notification. He took a seat next to Sai, who looked over his own notification with little to no concern. Sakura frowned, having looked to Sai for support and found none. Perhaps her fellow teammate was just as worried as she was but still was unable to master the expression of said worry.  
"What kind of arrangements?" she asked Yamato.  
Captain Yamato looked up, smiling. "There are some cases in which quotas are postponed: illnesses, hospital detainment; in our case, where we have a very unstable team member who's suffered a great ordeal. Because of our role in the war, we've been given time to recuperate."  
"That's the problem," Sakura said, crossing her arms. "Our time is up."  
A silence overtook the three. The wind picked up. Sakura looked to her right and to her left, seeing nothing but a stretch of paved road down each direction. But as the wind blew, the leaves fell, sweeping down the path in small whirlwind circles. It was an inviting mid-morning day: a bright blue sky covered in clouds encrusted with the rich glow of the sun. To the pink haired Kunoichi's bemused delight, it was the complete opposite from the day before, when she thought the rain would pelt on forever. Sakura spent yesterday at the hospital, as per usual, mending wounds and putting a friendly smile to what began as a very gloomy day.  
Though now, when reassurance was most needed, not even the perfect weather could make up for Captain Yamato and Sai's nonchalant responses.  
Yamato could see that this was quite upsetting to Sakura, who seemed unable to relax. She kept alternating between feet as they tapped repeatedly against the yellow stone. Every now and then she paced, to the fence and back again, while her lips moved of their own volition, silently mouthing her disdain for the team's current predicament.  
With almond shaped eyes, he scoped the whole of the notice once more, ingesting its message in its entirety. As a member of Anbu, he could certainly grasp the full weight of Sakura's concern. If this notification was to be believed, then Team Kakashi was due for an assignment, in a matter of days. There was nothing more important to a Shinobi's career than a resume of regular mission completion. That career would quickly stagnate, without one. The most effective manner in which a Shinobi could advance their rank was through a steady completion of missions and assignments.  
Shinobi as young as Sai and Sakura needed to continue their quota of assignments, if they had any intention on establishing their rank.  
As it was, Sakura had taken up her medic-nin capabilities, licensed as a hired hand for the hospital. Sai continued to pursue his efforts in understanding the human mind and grasping human emotion. The two spent most of their time in the library, researching medical texts, behavioral analyses and sharing their findings. In Yamato's opinion, both team members had ventured into a more academic realm of the institution and, though he held no personal qualms with that particular pursuit, for the youthful to take up such idle roles was a disturbance to the establishment. Fulfilling a monthly quota of mission-based assignments would be the best way for the team to proceed.  
Whether they were aware of this fact or not, Yamato imagined that advancing their careers was an ambition for both Sai and Sakura, and something like an incompletion or avoidance of missions could tarnish the successiveness of their records.  
"More time can be made," Yamato said, hoping to reassure the two. Sai, as always, remained a blank surface waiting to be colored with a dab of emotion. Sakura, however, remained unconvinced.  
"I'm not so sure, Yamato-taichou," Sakura voiced, barely above a whispered.  
Sai looked up from his notice, at last, his pitch black eyes wandering between the two. "Kakashi-sensei is the Hokage. Would he not wave our obligations, if we asked him?" he suggested in an ever even tone.  
"I doubt it," Sakura frowned, furrowed brow, eyeing the open scroll in Yamato's hand. "It has the Rokudaime's Seal of Approval on the bottom."  
"That doesn't necessarily mean that the Hokage approved of this or is even aware of the situation. With so much paperwork going in and out of the offices, I doubt Kakashi-senpai even sees forms on mission requirements," Yamato explained, handing Sakura back her scroll. "He'll, most likely, sit on the board if we request a stay."  
"If we request a stay, he'll only deny it," Sakura said, and Yamato detected a hint of malice in her tone.  
"What makes you think that?" Sai asked, his face, still, misleadingly blank.  
Sakura spared them both a glare, staring at the ground. "I just have a feeling that he would. I'm concerned for Naruto," she muttered, "but Kakashi-sensei would allow this– just to spite him, wouldn't he?"  
"Sakura…" Yamato stared, surprised his chunin charge would think so little of her sensei and his motives. Yamato was hard-pressed to believe that his senpai had anything to do with this, whatsoever. Naruto's present priorities wouldn't stand under the scrutiny of anyone. It was true that Kakashi disapproved and would probably act no further than the law required of him. Sure, this decision had put a strain on Naruto and Kakashi's relationship, but even his senpai knew that they were Naruto's choices to make and would do nothing to interfere. "Surely you don't mean that. Kakashi-senpai cares a great deal for all his students. He wouldn't force Naruto into anything he wasn't physically and mentally prepared to do."  
"Maybe he didn't mean anything by it," Sakura relented, "but this is the only way, isn't it? If Naruto feels threatened; if his career is on the line, then he'd have to put an end to this."  
"You know he won't do that," Yamato said. "He's proven plenty of times that he looks out for the people he cares about. This is who he is. I wouldn't want that to change."  
"Sasuke-kun is like a brother to him," said Sai.  
Sakura's abrupt silence was nothing so striking as her disdain upon hearing that name.  
"That's right," Yamato chorused, "Sasuke is like a brother to Naruto. They share a bond, one that can't be severed by threats like this. He was the only one who could save Sasuke back then, and he's the only one who can help save him now."  
"At what cost, Yamato-taichou," Sakura sighed. She began to pace again. "He can't keep putting his life on hold for Sasuke—Naruto's been doing that for years! And even though he's in custody, Sasuke still manages to control his life."  
She stopped, standing before Yamato and Sai; tapping her right foot with such strength that it left an increasing dent in the ground. Her eyes flared with fear and anger: fear that Naruto might never escape the stigma of their former teammate and anger, anger that said former teammate still influenced Naruto in a great way.  
"What about you, Sakura?" Sai asked, placing his notice in his lap. "What does Sasuke-kun mean to you?"  
Sakura's eyes grew wide, her lips quivering, before the young woman managed to recompose herself.  
"Sasuke…Sasuke is no longer important to me. He's done evil things and, for that reason, he will be punished. What's done is right," she grimaced, staring down.  
Sai's eyes were on her, analyzing her and her body language: the slight suction of her lips, the restlessness in her eyes, and the way her hands would flinch, even though they remained uselessly at her sides. The wind picked up again, tossing her bangs before her eyes. Nervously, Sakura tucked them back behind her ears.  
"I don't think I believe that," Sai concluded, earning him a heated gaze from the troubled Kunoichi. Then Sai thought to smile, believing that this might ease over Sakura's displeasure. "The book you helped me find yesterday is coming in handy very quickly."  
"Well," Sakura huffed, crossing her arms once more. "I wish I'd never helped you find that book."  
"But it's been very helpful," he explained, still smiling.  
Yamato sighed.  
"Naruto is my only concern," she stated sternly. "I'm worried that if he doesn't pull together, he might never realize his dreams." Her face softened. "He wants to be a great leader and, in order to do that, he has to complete as many assignments as he possibly can. We need to start completing assignments," she added, "or we'll fall behind."  
"You're right about that," Yamato agreed, growing more disturbed as the knowledge began to settle in. Rising from the bench, he projected a calm demeanor and produced an easy-going smile. "I'll take that," he said, and, reluctantly, Sakura handed her notice back over to him. Sai looked up and saw Sakura's notification in their Captain's hand, so he handed over his as well.  
"You two shouldn't worry about this, just yet. It's too early to say, but I am certain an arrangement can be made. I'll speak to Kakashi-senpai myself and sort this all out."  
"What if an arrangement can't be made?" Sakura asked, her eyes brimming with worry. Sai stood and came to her side, lacking all the expression that his teammate possessed. "What should we do, then?"  
"Just go about your daily routine," Yamato said gently, hoping to assuage her concerns. This was their future as active Shinobi on the line, after all. "Continue your rounds at the hospital. Sai, I want you to contact your lieutenant."  
"Mm." Sai nodded.  
Yamato nodded in return, rolling up the two scrolls and stashing them in his back pouch. "Worst case scenario: Team Kakashi will be disbanded and its members placed in temp squads, indefinitely, if something can't be done."  
"Can you talk to Naruto, Yamato-taichou?" Sakura asked. "I've tried, but…" she paused, looking away. "He doesn't seem to hear me."  
"Sakura, if there was someone you cared a great deal about, and you knew that there time was very limited, what would you do?" Yamato asked in response. Sakura relented, and he knew she would. Her intentions weren't uncaring, simply strong-hearted. Yamato detected that the young Shinobi was still unable to grasp what Naruto shared with the remaining Uchiha.  
"I would want to be with them," she said, shaking her head. "I just wish more could be done."  
"Something will be done. I'll make sure of it," Yamato reassured them. "Now…where were the two of you headed?"  
"Oh…"  
"To the library," Sai supplied. "We received the notifications fairly recently and, since we ran into you, we thought we might ask you about them," he further explained.  
"Like I said, don't worry too much on this," Yamato waved off, "but do make the necessary preparations. Just in case."  
"That can wait until after the library," Sai said.  
"Yes," Sakura grinned, miserably. "We were going to do some research. Sai has a theory on how human response to pain and incapacitation plays an important role in the physical recovery of a Shinobi. He seems to believe that chakra circulating in the brain is sent out with its own set of receptive indicators, separate from the immune system. With some luck, we can present our findings as a thesis to the medical board."  
"That's great," Yamato chucked, truly amazed. "I was told by Kakashi-senpai that Iruka-sensei often tells him that you were the brightest of your class. Now, with Sai's intellect, the two of you should be unstoppable."  
"Thank you," Sakura blushed, fingering her cheek. Sai remained unresponsive. "Iruka-sensei really said that?" she asked, just to be certain.  
"I-I guess so. Perhaps I should ask him myself," he replied.  
Then it hit him.  
"Well, I won't hold the two of you up," he smiled. "Good luck with your research," he waved, turning down the road.  
"Oh," Sakura breathed, bearing a hesitant smile. "Bye, Yamato-taichou."  
Sai and Sakura watched him leave; only, Sakura possessed a look of confusion.  
"That was strange," she grumbled.  
"In what way?" Sai asked.  
Sakura thought she might explain but shook her head and let it go. Such an explanation would involve social complexities that the older Shinobi would only question and further analyze. It truly wasn't worth it.  
"Come on, let's go," she said, uneasily, and the two left in the other direction.  
Yamato's pace picked up, as he headed south. It had been his intention to go grocery shopping. He left his fridge as bare as possible, before a mission, so to not let anything go bad. But as he was running low on supplies and growing weary of instant ramen, he thought a trip to the marketplace would do him far less harm.  
But he was heading in the opposite direction, his intended destination now being the Academy.  
Yamato couldn't help but question why the thought had not occurred to him, earlier. The fate of Team Kakashi was in peril, with Naruto's deep-rooted attachment to Uchiha Sasuke as its one true threat. At this point, the active Anbu member could think of only one person who could reach Naruto; talk to him, and convince him reduce the amount of time he spent visiting the prison.  
If only to fulfill the team's monthly quota.  
He was eager, determined even, to pay Umino Iruka a visit. He felt it important that the chunin know what predicament his former charge was in and, of course, Iruka was in the best position to help him. Yamato knew how much he cared for Naruto. From what he'd learned from the man himself, he soon took care of Naruto, when it was apparent that there wasn't another soul willing to look after the boy.  
This had nothing to do with the fact that Yamato wanted to see the Academy sensei again. This would be a formal visit, he charged himself, one that dealt with Naruto's situation and Naruto's situation only.  
All other conversation could surely wait.  
But Yamato enjoyed his dinner with Iruka and anticipated another opportunity to ask the chunin on another outing. Perhaps, when all serious matters were discussed, this would prove to be the perfect opportunity.  
His gait neared a brisk jog.  
How would Iruka respond to this knowledge, he wondered. Yamato imagined the chunin would be upset and reasonably so. Worried, yes. He imagined what that looked like and recalled a rather unsettling image of the night before. Iruka had been fairly easy-going and conversational, not at all like his Academy persona. With no responsibilities, no assignments to deal out and no pre-genin to contain, the chunin was all smiles, all laughs, and all jokes. Yamato admired the chunin's grace and confidence, despite his low rank. The night he treated him to Ichiraku's, Yamato honestly believed that he could sit there and listen to Iruka talk for all eternity, if need be.  
Then, in one split second, everything changed. The light in Iruka's eyes dimmed and his face fell, staring into his empty bowl of ramen. The chunin had stopped talking, mid-sentence, so to avoid drawing attention to himself. All that he was, an interesting and lively pre-genin sensei, had vanished the instant the Rokudaime entered the ramen bar. Iruka had been effectively silenced by his senpai's presence, and Yamato felt he held a pretty good understanding of why.  
Still, it never hurt to try. During Konoha's reconstruction process, Yamato had grown fairly acquainted with Team 7's pre-genin instructor and found that he quite enjoyed the man's company. He enjoyed Iruka, and Yamato would explore every possibility that Iruka-sensei might enjoy him back.  
Yamato turned right, taking a short-cut down an alleyway.  
That's when he heard it, a faint whimpering from behind a couple of dumpsters. The whimpering grew into groans of agony, as though someone had been injured. The captain slowed down, scoping the area mercilessly. The two buildings on either side of him were a mixture of residences and offices. Whatever or whoever it was could be a civilian or Shinobi. Most likely the former, he thought, considering a ninja would never take rest in an unpopulated area, especially when the hospital was less than a mile away.  
Finding an injured civilian was not uncommon. Civilians had disputes, civilians engaged in altercations. They may not have the skills, the strength, or the influence of a Shinobi, but Yamato had learned long ago that there was very little difference in the evil both ninja and civilians could achieve.  
"Help," uttered a faint voice.  
"Hello? I'm right here," he called back, springing into action.  
"Thank you! Thank you! I'm injured, sir…" The voice was high and boisterous, much like that of a small child. That realization had Yamato rushing behind the dumpsters, certain to find a little boy or girl with a broken arm or a sprained leg, perhaps.  
But he found not a little boy or girl cowering against the side of the building.  
"What the…?"  
It was a furry rump and a small, fluffy tail that he saw, protruding from behind the dumpsters. It turned, slowly, revealing a blue vest wrapped around its small body that was branded with the henohenomoheji seal of the Hatake clan; droopy round eyes rimmed in dark brown circles, accompanied with a pitiful frown.  
"B-Bisuke?" Yamato stuttered, confused.  
"Hello, Yamato-san." Bisuke blinked. "Sorry about this."  
"About what?"  
Suddenly, his person was being surrounded, so Yamato pulled a kunai from his jacket. But as he looked left and right, it was not enemy or even fellow Shinobi he found advancing on him but, in fact, the rest of Kakashi's ninken ambushing him. He lowered his guard, stashing his weapon back into his vest pocket, but that didn't make him any less alert.  
"W-what are you guys doing?"  
To his left, Akino, Urushi, and Uhei approached and, to his right, approached Bull, Shiba, and Guruko. They stepped forward, with each paw print as definite as the last, their teeth bare and their mouths rumbling with rabid foam. Yamato was perplexed, not knowing whether to feel threatened or not. These were his senpai's ninken, after all. Why would they attack him? What reason would they have to attack him?  
Then Pakkun appeared, jumping down from the dumpsters. The pug took his place at the front of the pack, standing before Yamato in a position to pounce.  
"Pakkun! What's going on? Has something gone wrong?" he asked, on the off chance that whatever caused their ferociousness had nothing to do with him.  
"Yamato-taichou," Pakkun growled, his gruff voice emitting an unusually bitter tone. "We've got a bone to pick with you."

"These are the final matters we have to discuss today," Lady Utatane said, addressing the round table. There were five of them, all prestigious members of the Board of Shinobi and the Council: Lady Utatane and Elder Mitokado, both of which sat on the north side of the table. Opposite them sat Shikaku Nara, Jounin Commander, donning his standard flak jacket; bearing a thick goatee and two proud gashes down the side of his face. His single pierced ear-ring shined in the overhead light, every now and then casting bright dots against the otherwise uninspired décor.  
This hall was much smaller, in size and grandeur, in comparison to the Council chamber. It allowed just a few members, like Elder Utatane and Elder Mitokado, to orchestrate a private meeting that would, ultimately, decide the fate of all matters brought to the Head Council.  
Also in attendance sat Elder Hurasu, taking up a whole side to himself, and Lord Shijimi, who often served as head of the Council. He now sat, as at ease as ever; the droopy lines down his face stretching into a smile, as he tossed his wrinkly old wrist with the swish of his fan. Every now and then, Shikaku threw the flamboyant man a dirty look, annoyed by the wisps of air thrown in his direction.  
"What is to be done about Konoha's dwindling manpower, and what is to be done with the Root subdivision of Anbu," Elder Mitokado continued.  
"In discussing these last issues, I think we should wait for Kakashi-sama to show up," Shikaku opted, staring the two leading elders down. His eyes had long since narrowed in on the two, not at all ignorant to their game.  
"You should know by now, Nara-san," Elder Utatane spoke lightly. "The Hokage is not going to show up. Perhaps he has found more important matters to attend to."  
"What's more important than this?" Shikaku challenged, gripping the edge of the table. "The budget and reconstruction plans? Those are issues that could have easily been dealt with by the board. But taking a decisive action on Root will affect the future of hundreds of Konoha's strongest forces. As for manpower, deciding how our numbers can be better distributed is a decision the Hokage should have a definite say in. It should not be left up to us but to the Rokudaime."  
"And we couldn't agree more, Nara-san," Elder Mitokado chuckled, nudging his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Hurasu chuckled as well, wheezing along with Mitokado's patronizing tone. "But as you can see, we must make these decisions ourselves. The Hokage is not here."  
"Ma…says who?" Kakashi hummed, closing the door behind him. His long-limbed strides were accompanied by silence and the flabbergasted faces of his fellows. He took a seat amongst the table, on the left side of Nara Shikaku. The man gave him a slight grin, and Kakashi gave a curt nod in response. Then he eyed the rest of the table and its occupants, all of whom expressed a combination of bewilderment and annoyance. Kakashi smiled, specifically, in Elder Mitokado and Elder Utatane's direction. "Shall we proceed with the meeting?"  
"Splendid. Truly marvelous," The Daimyo cooed, clapping his fingers together.  
"Lord Shijimi," Kakashi greeted, lowering his head in respect. Then he looked up once more, not repeating the action for any of the three elders sitting opposite him.  
"Glad to see you could finally make it, Kakashi-sama." Lord Shijimi fanned his shoulder length hair back. "We were just discussing what should be done about our low manpower, as well as what to do with Danzou's Anbu subdivision."  
"The significant term being "just discussing", Kakashi-sama," Elder Hurasu said, scowling. He too pressed his beefy hands down against the table top. "We have already come to a unified decision on both matters."  
"Eh?" Lord Shijimi breathed.  
"No we have not," Shikaku barked, eyeing the elder suspiciously. He looked to Kakashi, the volume of his voice decreasing exponentially. "We were onlydiscussing the issues before you arrived, Kakashi-san" he explained.  
"I see," Kakashi uttered, eyeing the table. "In that case…" the jounin dropped his smile and pleasant tone in exchange for a stern glare and a frank drawl. "Shikaku-san, fill me in on what I've missed."  
"Right." The commander looked down to his notes, checking them off as he went. "We discussed the current budget plan, for both civilian and Shinobi facilities."  
"What are the numbers?"  
Shikaku looked to his notes again. "208.8 billion ryo."  
"I suspect there's no inflation."  
Shikaku shook his head. "No…the war guaranteed that the ryo is strong. As Amegakure played heavily into the war, as strong followers to Madara's cause and enemies of the Leaf, it is they who must pay Konoha reparation."  
"Is that before or after the figure?"  
"After," Shikaku confirmed. "From what statistics the finance department has circulated, Konoha is currently, still, the wealthiest nation amongst the Five Great Shinobi Countries, leading far above Iwagakure, Kumogakure, Kirigakure, and Sunagakure."  
"Mm…What is Amegakure's current situation?" the Rokudaime asked.  
Shikaku looked amongst the table. "They're war wrecked," he said. "Not only must they repay us, for our loss, but they must also compensate for the losses of our allies. Their government will soon collapse and they will fall into a deep depression without necessary aid."  
"Nonsense," Elder Hurasu grumbled. "They were our enemies in the war and, before that, were led by that criminal, Nagato, and his Pain bodies… The less exchange we share with the Hidden Rain the better."  
"I believe that would be a terrible miscalculation, Elder Hurasu," Kakashi stated coolly. Elder Hurasu squirmed in his seat, disgruntled by the Hokage's terribly calm stare. "If history has shown us anything, it's that we shouldn't abandon our neighboring Shinobi, out of spite. Is Konohagakure not equally guilty of bloodshed? The only difference is that we won and they, led by a power-driven individual, did not." He shrugged. "Back-handed politics such as these create the danger, turning groups that advocate peace into vengeful murderers…like your Nagato, Lord Hurasu."  
"What do you know?"Elder Hurasu spat. "I'll have you know that I've been dealing with heathen villages since before you were born!"  
"Hurasu!" Lady Utatane snapped, and the man fell silent. She turned to Kakashi, her eyes sharp and beady. "Explain yourself, Kakashi."  
Kakashi would gladly explain himself, his own fervor for the discussion unbeknownst to even him. "Was it not Amegakure who fell into civil war less than a decade ago? The result of which gave rise to Pain's power."  
"We know of that war now, Kakashi-san," Elder Mitokado griped. "Konohagakure had nothing to do with it."  
"We had everything to do with it, Elder Mitokado," Kakashi retaliated, although his voice remained pleasantly light. "After Pain's invasion, Konoha did a full investigation into Amegakure and the circumstances under which Hanzou fell from power."  
Elder Hurasu sneered, "So what?"  
"Before that," Kakashi continued, "It was Konoha who came to Amegakure's aid, under the lead of the very same subdivision we've come to discuss today." He frowned, irately eyeing the heads of their village. "But we were no aid. We were called upon to enact a ploy, slaughtering hundreds of innocent Shinobi who were advocating peace. We, Konoha, helped to create Pain. Danzou's decisively militant actions made us just as guilty as Hanzou, in starting that war."  
"This is outrageous!" Elder Hurasu growled.  
"Kakashi-san, how can you make such claims," Elder Mitokado scowled, the Hokage's words being nonsense to his ears. "It's preposterous."  
"This is not preposterous!" Shikaku argued. "This is what happened. You must know by now that Danzou sent his Root personnel out to Amegakure to help Hanzou annihilate the opposition, a peaceful movement headed by the Ame orphans. We've confiscated Jiraiya-sama's journals and dispatches, and we know a great deal now about our role in shaping the Amegakure we see today."  
"Kakashi-sama, what do you propose Konohagakure do to assist Amegakure in this time of need?" Lord Shijimi asked. "How should we act?"  
Kakashi considered the Daimyo, before he spoke. He dare say that Lord Shijimi had far more guards following him than Kakashi was willing to permit for himself. He felt their chakra signatures flank the hallways and well into the yard of the building.  
"We shouldn't simply dismiss fellow Shinobi villages and take up causes, whenever it best suits us. We supported Amegakure, in our darkest hour, so we'll support them, in their darkest hour. I'm implementing policies that establish a reconstruction period, where we will provide Amegakure the funds and equipment essential to their survival."  
"You can't be serious…!" Elder Hurasu seethed.  
"Shikaku-san," Kakashi said, looking to his right; pointedly ignoring the elder growing purple in the face.  
"Yes, Kakashi-san."  
"I want you to take care of this. Send a team out to Amegakure: a messenger, a diplomat, and however many strongmen are needed to make this an uneventful venture. Consider this an S-rank mission."  
"No problem," Shikaku uttered, glaring at Hurasu.  
"I couldn't agree more with your decision, Kakashi-sama," Lord Shijimi flattered him. "This would be the most effective approach to maintaining our ties with the Hidden Rain –after this previous war, especially. Wouldn't you agree, Elder Mitokado and Lady Utatane?"  
"Yes, Elder Mitokado and Lady Utatane," Kakashi beamed. "Wouldn't you agree?"  
"It's a sound plan," Elder Mitokado stated tightly.  
"We would have come to this decision, eventually," Lady Utatane frowned.  
"Good, good," Lord Shijimi insisted. "Now, Kakashi-sama, what are your thoughts on Root?"  
"Maa…" the jounin took a moment's pause. "It's a part of Konoha's history that should never be repeated. As of today, the currently suspended Root division of Anbu will be disbanded, definitely. Its members will join ranks with the official tactical squad." A gasp was shared about the table, with the exception of Kakashi and Shikaku. For Kakashi, he need not be surprised by his own ruling, and Shikaku couldn't be more satisfied to hear it.  
"You can't be serious…"  
"I am serious, Elder Hurasu."  
"But we could still have a Root division," he scoffed. "Root is the most effective, covert operation we have had in disabling the will of our enemies."  
"Root has garnered more failures than are acceptable. Besides, I find it more effective to ensure that we keep our list of enemies at a bare minimum," Kakashi countered. He looked to the rest of the table, addressing the Daimyo, the commander, and the two other elders. "Furthermore, Nara Shikaku will lead Anbu from now on–"  
"What–?"  
"The Jounin Commander will be my second in command," he told them. He turned towards Shikaku. "You already command the regular ranks; ergo, you are the most qualified to head the Black Ops, in my absence." Kakashi then addressed the other four attendees. "Anbu should be lead by two individuals, so to ensure its effectiveness and account for its actions."  
"Splendid!" Lord Shijimi said, fanning himself adamantly. "I must say, Kakashi-sama, you have the grace of the White Fang. I see it before my very eyes!"  
"Thank you, Lord Shijimi."  
"Tell me, what of our decreasing number in Shinobi. How would you resolve this matter?"  
Kakashi shrugged, looking towards the dome ceiling. It was decorated with an inner ring of stain glass windows, the perfect luxury to an economically sound room. Sunlight cascaded down in iridescent rays… By the looks of it, noon was soon approaching, and the Hokage could list a slew of other places he would rather be than here, resolving the issue to that question.  
Kakashi sighed, thinking that the Academy grounds most inviting, around this time of day.  
"We'll handle our low personnel the way Konohagakure has always dealt with the situation: with endurance and the assistance of our closest ally, Sunagakure. With Root no longer a subdivision, those Anbu can be utilized to pick up regularly classified missions. That, alone, will increase our manpower by tenfold."  
"Yes, yes. Of course, of course," Lord Shijimi exclaimed, hiding his giddiness beneath his fan. "I must say, Kakashi-sama. I can't find a single flaw in your plans. You'll certainly have my support, as these decisions come to pass."  
Kakashi looked to Lady Utatane and Elder Mitokado and had a feeling that, at that moment, the two elders wished to be anywhere else but sitting at that table.  
"Then if Lord Shijimi supports the Rokudaime and his decisions, we will support him and his ruling as well," Mitokado said, looking to his fellow elders. Hurasu seemed on the verge of boiling over with rage.  
"Then these matters are settled for now. We will adjourn this meeting," the Daimyo sighed happily. He looked to Kakashi, nodding in tune to his fanning. "Kakashi-sama, come time for the Council to gather, I will make certain that your plan of action is made aware and accepted by all council members."  
"Yes, Lord Shijimi," Kakashi bowed his head once more.  
Lord Shijimi rose from his chair, clasping his fan closed.  
"Now, if there are no other pressing matters to attend to, I would like to return to my land. I am expected to accompany the Madame for afternoon tea."  
The elders, Shikaku, and Kakashi stood as well, watching as Lord Shijimi made his way towards the doors. He was immediately escorted by four guards but, most certainly, there existed a dozen or so more who remained unseen. Only when the doors thudded close did the other five attendees begin to collect themselves to leave. Hurasu sprang first, hauling the whole of his girth across the room in a multiple of heavy-footed waddles. His robes bellowed behind him, barely clearing the door before it slammed shut.  
"You showed up," Shikaku mumbled, beneath his breath.  
"Did you doubt that I would?" Kakashi muttered, just as lowly, pushing in his chair.  
Shikaku pushed his own chair in, leaning up against it.  
"For a second there, I thought you might pull one of your disappearing acts or send someone in your stead."  
"I was not aware of these meetings…You gave me the head's up, when no one else seemed to think it necessary to do so," Kakashi remarked, staring at the two elders who spoke ardently amongst themselves. "The least I could do was show."  
"How troublesome," Shikaku scoffed. "You certainly chose an interesting moment to show up."  
"Kakashi-san," Lady Utatane said, coming forward. Both jounin eyed her with caution. "I do hope you've taken time to decide who will be escorting you to the summit."  
"Mm…I've given it some thought," Kakashi lied.  
"The select few who join you," Elder Mitokado began, stepping in line with Lady Utatane, "will serve as representatives of the village. They will also serve as your strength, as well as your accompanied guests. These individuals should not be chosen lightly."  
Kakashi looked away, his attention drifting.  
"Maa, I'll keep that in mind when I make my choices," he said. Elder Mitokado walked on, not as aggressively as Hurasu, but it was apparent to both the Jounin Commander and the Hokage that Mitokado did not get what he wanted out of this preliminary meeting.  
Elder Mitokado left, the doors shutting firmly behind him.  
Lady Utatane remained steadfast, apparently, not at all through with Kakashi. She watched him, critically, her gaze shifting to read the expanse of his masked face. Kakashi watched her back, smiling, not at all troubled by her stern stare. What he found more interesting was the fact that Shikaku had yet to leave, standing patiently to the side. Then again, it wasn't an everyday occurrence to find the Jounin Commander in charge of both divisions of the highest ranking Shinobi of their village.  
"Kakashi-san, when the Hokage attends a formal meeting, it is expected of him to wear the appropriate attire," Lady Utatane began, in a frank and condescending tone.  
"Ne…" Kakashi could think of only one way to respond to that. He dipped his hands into his pockets, shrugging slightly. "I didn't see the Daimyo complaining."  
"Where are your Hokage robes, Kakashi-san."  
"I left them at home," Kakashi lied, again. What was visible of his face gave nothing away, his eye meeting Lady Utatane's in an unspoken challenge.  
Shikaku looked between the two, growing wearier by the second.  
"See to it that you wear them," she said sharply, brushing passed him and towards the door. However, to Kakashi's dismay, her shrill voice still continued to fill the room. "Also…I spoke to Iruka-sensei, and I believe that he and I have agreed that he is unfit to serve as your assistant. I have compiled a list of worthy candidates from which you are to choose your new aid. Do come by my chambers to receive it."  
"That won't be necessary, Lady Utatane," Kakashi said, feigning a tight grin.  
"Oh?" The astute elder turned back and paused, her frail hand gripping the door handle. "I assure you, the decision was unanimous. He agreed that there are others who are far more…qualified and equipped to tend to your needs."  
"Iruka-sensei tends to my needs, just fine," he said, a sudden anger rising in his voice.  
Shikaku looked between the two, stumped by the discussion.  
Kakashi was growing tired of the elders and their ill-attempts at usurping his position. At first, it was a minor nuisance, somewhat humorous, even after letting them know that he wouldn't be their puppet; he wouldn't be a lame representative of their failing system. He could tolerate their attempts to sway his decisions, bar him from meetings, and withhold information from him. But when Lady Utatane spoke to Iruka and put that doubt in the chunin's mind, it was Kakashi who had to fight to reassure Iruka otherwise.  
When Iruka first spoke of resigning, something constricted in Kakashi's chest. He knew then and there that, to lose Iruka's companionship in any way, shape, or form, was a threat to him.  
"Do what you will with your list, Lady Utatane, but Iruka-sensei is my associate and the only assistance I require. I would ask you not to approach him with anymore discussion of this," Kakashi said, but he made it apparent that this was not a suggestion or a request. He ignored Shikaku's confusion, glaring at Elder Utatane. "This is my decision. Iruka-sensei's position is permanent."  
"We shall see, Kakashi-san," Lady Utatane said briskly, before exiting.  
The Rokudaime remained glaring at the door, long after Lady Utatane's departure.  
"What the hell was that all about?" Shikaku grumbled, looking between the door and the younger man.  
"…Another dispute for another day," Kakashi answered.  
"Iruka-sensei…."  
Shikaku held his chin, racking his brain to recall where he'd heard that name before.  
"Iruka-sensei, the Academy instructor? I remember him… My son was a student of his," he clarified, the recollection growing stronger. "Had nothing but good things to say about Shikamaru's progress, if I recall. Although, he did press that the boy had a bad habit of sleeping in class."  
Shikaku smirked, thinking back to his own days at the Academy. He wasn't much for lectures, himself, and spent most of them with his head against the desk. But he had a very boring sensei. On the other hand, Shikamaru had always been passionate about his pre-genin sensei, if not for his lessons.  
"A very nice young man," Shikaku went on to say. "Seems to really enjoy his job, too."  
Kakashi still hadn't taken his eye off of the door.  
Shikaku gave the Hokage a blunt stare, looking him up and down. "Friendly, polite, enthusiastic…what's someone like Iruka-sensei hanging around you for?"  
"Ne…" Kakashi turned at last, his glare morphing into a false frown. "I'm friendly. I'm polite."  
"You showed up to the last ten minutes of our meeting," Shikaku groused. "I'm no saint myself, but that hardly constitutes as polite behavior."  
"You're starting to sound like Iruka-sensei, Shikaku-san," Kakashi replied.  
"Well you would know…apparently." Shikaku frowned. "…Kakashi-san, about taking command of Anbu…" his gravelly voice trailed away.  
"I apologize for not notifying you in advance, but it was my intention all along to combine the two institutions. To have the Jounin Commander lead both standard and classified operations seemed to me a logical approach to unifying the two bodies and utilizing personnel more effectively."  
"That and making me head the two takes away a bit of your responsibilities," Shikaku rebuked.  
Kakashi shrugged, "A favorable byproduct."  
"And you're certain this is the best approach?" Shikaku asked.  
Kakashi detected a hint doubt in his former superior.  
"Shikaku-san, it was you who nominated my name, when it was believed that Tsunade-sama would not recuperate from Pain's destruction. You believed me the most capable and most qualified to take up her responsibilities. In turn, I believe you are the most capable and most qualified to command both Jounin and Anbu ranks." He reached out, gripping the man's shoulder encouragingly. "Believe in me now, as you once did before, in my faith in you."  
Shikaku looked to his shoulder, curiously, before rolling his eyes. "When you put it like that, it's difficult to refuse," the older man sighed.  
Kakashi released his grip, smiling his one-eyed smile.  
"Sneaky as always, Hatake Kakashi."

Iruka walked down the open path, beaming. He could see the Academy in the distance. To his right, the playground chorused with rowdy children, many of which were students of his making good use of their lunch break. As for himself, Iruka had spent his lunch running errands. The teacher's storage room had run low on supplies, so the chunin volunteered to head out to the marketplace and restock. Now he was saddled with satchels of new chalk, erasers, notebooks, folders, and worksheet papers. He could only hope that the storage room remained intact, just long enough to find all these new purchases.  
"Iruka-sensei!"  
"Mm?" Iruka stopped. He looked to the playground but doubted it was one of the children. The voice he heard was much older than the average age of his students. Still, it was familiar, as if its owner had once been a student and was now a Shinobi Iruka greatly admired.  
Iruka turned and, sure enough, it was a former student he greatly admired.  
"Shikamaru," he called back, pleasantly surprised to see the now jounin squad captain. He was accompanied by Yuhi Kurenai, jounin team leader of three other former students of his: Hyuga Hinata, Aburame Shino, and Inuzuka Kiba, all of whom were now accomplished Shinobi. Iruka chuckled, imagining that all of his former students were now successful and well-known, in their own right.  
"You're the only Academy instructor to ever have an entire class of students make it on a team."  
Kakashi's words came to mind, and Iruka felt his face warming up, making the billowing breeze all that much colder.  
"Hello, Iruka-sensei," Kurenai smiled warmly.  
"Kurenai-san," Iruka greeted, smiling back.  
It was then that he noticed a small bundle in Kurenai's arms, strapped in a red, silk holster that wrapped around the woman's left shoulder. The chunin looked to the jounin, overjoyed for the infant child held against her mother's bosom.  
"Is that who I think it is?" he asked softly, a broad grin spreading across his face.  
"Mm-hm," Kurenai hummed, staring down at her bundle of joy. "Little Biwako…"  
Shikamaru glowed, looking to his future pupil with pride.  
Iruka stepped closer, looking to both mother and infant. "I remember her birth ceremony, but there were so many people. I didn't get a chance to congratulate you, Kurenai-san," he sighed. But his eyes brightened, never straying far from the little, crimson eyes taking in the new world around her.  
"Really?" Kurenai pouted, shifting the baby's weight beneath her arm. "I'm sorry to hear that, Iruka-sensei. Things were so hectic that day. I should have paid more attention –"  
"No, no," he gently waved. "You had far more important things to worry about, like this beautiful little girl here…" Iruka reached out but stopped himself, looking to Kurenai for consent. "May I?"  
"Of course you can," she laughed.  
Iruka was overjoyed. He extended his hand to the much smaller one that kept reaching out to catch pockets of air with its nimble fingers. That same pudgy hand wrapped itself around his thumb, inspecting the appendage with round eyes. It caused the chunin to chuckle. "She's the curious type," he smiled.  
"You don't say," Kurenai cooed.  
By the tone in her voice, Iruka gathered that baby Biwako must have caused her mother a lot of trouble, as of late.  
"She's a reckless little runt," Shikamaru chimed in, smirking. "Just yesterday, she knocked over her mom's resin collection." He frowned at Iruka. "I spent all afternoon cleaning it up. Even still, Kurenai-sensei's house smells like vanilla, lavender, sage, and a whole bunch of other fragrances that I can't even put a name to. Can you imagine that? Being cooped up in a house that smells like the shop of a tea-leaf shrew?" He looked to Biwako again, grumbling. "How troublesome…"  
"Shikamaru, you forgot to mention how you were supposed to be watching Biwako, while I went out to run some errands. You fell asleep, leaving Biwako to her own devices," Kurenai said, throwing dagger's at her late lover's favorite student.  
"Eh," Shikamaru cringed. "It would have been too much of a hassle to explain all that," he mumbled, rubbing the nape of his neck.  
"And are you calling me a tea-leaf shrew?"  
"N-no, Kurenai-sensei," Shikamaru mumbled, cowering under her heated gaze.  
Iruka laughed, amused by the humorous account. However, he remained taken by Biwako's big doe eyes. They looked to him with pure wonder. Then her cheeks puffed up, her lips stretching into a wet, toothless grin, and when her angelical giggle filled the afternoon air, Iruka was left winded, unable to cope with the rapid swelling in his heart.  
"I think she's saying hello, Iruka-sensei." Kurenai laughed, grazing her fingers through the crop of dark curls on the top of Biwako's head.  
"Is she now," Iruka whispered, breathlessly. Biwako let go of his thumb and reached out with both hands, her fingers gripping the air with want.  
"Does little Biwako want to go to Iruka-sensei?" Kurenai purred against the top of her head. The older woman looked back towards the chunin, enjoying the sudden nervousness in his gaze. "Would you like to hold her, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Ah…s-sure," he grinned, hesitantly.  
With the skill of a budding mother, Kurenai pulled Biwako from her holster and placed her in Iruka's outstretched arms. The Shinobi in her quickly noted that, despite the younger man's hesitation, the Academy instructor knew instantly how to hold her weight, especially making sure to support her head. He seemed at peace with the dilemma, looking to her infant daughter with an ease Kurenai would not usually associate with the notoriously wrought, over-protective and ever precautious sensei.  
"You're doing me a great service, Iruka-sensei," she heaved. "Don't get me wrong; I love every moment of this, but Biwako is a lot heavier than she looks." Kurenai rubbed the junction between her neck and shoulder. "I've been carrying her around all day," she explained.  
"I did offer to carry her," Shikamaru sighed.  
Kurenai scoffed. "I'm still not over the fact you fell asleep when you were supposed to be watching her. How will I know you won't put her down just anywhere to take one of your afternoon naps?"  
"Give me some credit here," Shikamaru frowned.  
"Hello to you too, Biwako-chan," Iruka cooed, having grown immune to all the commotion around him. All he saw was that little, perfect face grinning back at him; emitting a high-pitched squeal every so often. Even now, Biwako giggled, holding two of his fingers in a tight grip. "Yes, you're going to grow up to become a very strong fighter, just like your parents," he said, glancing up at Kurenai. The older woman mouthed a heartfelt thank you, in return for his kind words. Iruka looked back to the small body in his arms. "When you're old enough and enrolled at the Academy, I'll be there to teach you the basics. You'll become one of my greatest students, just like your soon-to-be mentor."  
"Oh, geez," Shikamaru sighed, looking away in discomfort. "Why did ya have to get all sentimental?"  
It was Biwako who laughed the loudest, although her reasons were unknown. Iruka wiggled his fingers, causing her to shake, which also made her laugh.  
Kurenai watched Biwako take quickly to Iruka, overwhelmed by the endearing sight. "Iruka-sensei, you're very good with children," she smiled, enjoying this softer side to the chunin.  
'Thanks," Iruka laughed, his face beginning to flush. "I guess I'd have to be, in order to deal with them on a regular basis."  
"True, but now I think I might ask you to babysit Biwako, from time to time. The only other person I've seen her take to this fast is Shikamaru."  
Iruka entertained the idea, gazing at little Biwako. True, he took care of children quite often, as it was his responsibility to do so when they stepped on school grounds. He didn't think he was up for babysitting, however, especially an infant born only a few months ago. It definitely wouldn't be a priority he could easily fit into his schedule. Besides, Iruka thought humorously, if tending to and watching over someone constituted as baby-sitting, then he believed he was already in the process of baby-sitting a 'child' three years older than him and eight more, all of who were of an entirely different species.  
"I'd be happy to help you in any way I can, Kurenai-sensei," he said, "but my schedule is packed as it is. After a week spent dealing with my students, I think baby-sitting would only drain me of what energy I have left."  
"I understand," Kurenai sighed. "It would be nice, though, to find some help that didn't have to leave for missions, on a regular basis."  
Iruka extended his arms out again, handing Biwako back to her mother. "Normally, even I would think myself a good candidate, but my responsibilities are keeping me very busy."  
"Oh… that's right," Kurenai managed, taking hold of her daughter's weight. She placed Biwako back into her holster. "I hear Kakashi's appointed you as his assistant."  
"Uh, yeah," Iruka nodded.  
"Kakashi-sensei," Shikamaru murmured, "he's a brilliant guy. Asuma always said he was a bit strange, though."  
"Asuma and Kakashi-sensei were friends," Kurenai chided.  
"Could he not believe Kakashi-sensei insane and still be his friend?" Shikamaru shrugged. "I'm not saying they weren't buddies, and I'm not saying Kakashi-sensei isn't one of the greatest Shinobi who ever lived. I just don't think he's right in the head; like, all the pieces aren't there, you know?" He looked to Iruka, a profoundly mystified look on his face. "To think of him as Hokage is too surreal…it gives me a headache."  
"Shikamaru," Kurenai hissed, but a light grin played across her ruby lips. "Whether Kakashi's strange or not," she looked to Iruka, "what's important is that he's fair and a good leader."  
"I couldn't agree more," Iruka chuckled.  
Kurenai looked to her daughter. "Iruka-sensei…I know Kakashi-san's given you a lot of grief in the past, and he likes to make a joke of it," she looked up again, meeting Iruka's weary gaze, "but I hope the Rokudaime is treating you well."  
"He is," Iruka nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Kurenai-san."  
Baby Biwako giggled.  
Shikamaru looked between the two, with a dead-beat gaze. "Do I even want to know?"  
"Come on, Shikamaru," Kurenai said, looking to the bags hanging from Iruka's shoulders. "I'm sure Iruka-sensei's got his errands to run. It's a school day too… I take it this is your break?" she asked him.  
"I'm afraid it is," he laughed, tugging at his vest. He looked to the playground, again spotting a few from his class and knowing full well that none of them would want to learn after an hour or so spent outdoors. Lethargy, the afternoon curse, would surely do him in.  
"We'll see you around, Iruka-sensei," Shikamaru hummed, waving lazily into the air.  
"Take care, Iruka-sensei," Kurenai said, offering the chunin a supportive smile.  
"You too," he smiled back. "Especially for this little one," he added, squeezing Biwako's little hand and shaking it in farewell. She giggled again, with crimson orbs full of mirth. "Biwako-chan has her mother's eyes," he said.  
"Yes," Kurenai chuckled, "but she's definitely got her father's mischievous streak."  
Shikamaru and Kurenai moved on. Iruka watched them go, briefly, before continuing towards the Academy. He was strapped for more time, now, but it was nice to have bumped into a few familiar faces.  
Still, it was more important that he make it back to class on time; otherwise, his students might return before him and start something Iruka was in no mood to finish. There was only one slope of land now separating him from the Academy and the training fields. He trudged down that shallow hill, holding the straps of his bags in a tight grip, before reaching even ground.  
Finally arriving, Iruka raced through the building and to the storage room first, stacking the place full with new supplies. He couldn't help but pause to make tidy, a trivial task that none of the other instructors felt obligated to perform, apparently. But putting his own judgments aside, Iruka cleaned what he could and moved on, making sure to leave the satchels hanging on the hook by the door.  
The hallways were empty, void of any student or teacher, other than himself. Iruka heaved a heavy sigh, relieved by the notion that he could obtain a few minutes of silence before the building exploded with trampling feet and energetic shouting. The chunin opened the door to his classroom, with closed eyes, reveling in the calm before the storm.  
"…So the rumors are true then?"  
It was a shame, only, that Iruka underestimated how soon that storm would come.  
The chunin snapped his eyes open and regretted it the moment he had; blinked a few times, even, and widened his gaze, hoping that it was a figment of his imagination.  
It wasn't.  
There stood Mitarashi Anko, leaning up against his desk.  
So he turned, without a word, and closed the door. Perhaps this was his mind playing tricks on him, punishing him for not providing the rest it so desperately desired.  
"Come on, Iruka-sensei… You can tell me."  
There was no ignoring that voice, and Iruka shuddered to imagine the lengths he would have to go to, in order to try.  
"Hello, Anko-san," he finally said, turning around.  
To his dismay, the woman was still there, watching him with a mischievous grin. If he had never known Naruto, Iruka might have thought the expression was patented to her, alone.  
"The suspense is killing me, Iruka-sensei… I must know," she said, in a sing-song way, her fingers dancing across the ledge of his desk.  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Iruka replied.  
"Don't be that way, Iruka-sensei," she sulked, but the chunin looked on, bemused. He wasn't quite sure what 'that way' was.  
Iruka stepped over to his students' desks, checking the rows for any trash he might find on the floor. He often found broken pencils and discarded paperwork, as well, all of which he made an effort to clean up before his students returned. He would go about his routine, never minding Anko-san's presence, so whenever he found himself looking to her, he quickly glanced away, hoping that the lack of attention would annoy her and force her to leave.  
"I'm not going anywhere," she said, as though reading his mind. Iruka shot her a look, unnerved where she remained passive and content. "Once something or someone has sparked my interest, Iruka-sensei, I can't help but do some probing."  
Iruka didn't respond. He knelt forward, picking up a pile of crumbled papers. He stood up again and jumped in surprise, doubling back from the tokubetsu jounin standing inches away from.  
"Iruka-sensei," Anko-san hummed, "I can be very persistent."  
"I-I can see that," he stammered, side-stepping her.  
"I'm thorough too," she said, following behind the chunin. "I have to say, watching you cradle little Biwako-can was the sweetest thing I've ever seen." Iruka looked back, his eyes growing wide with shock. "That baby certainly is adorable, and you didn't look to bad yourself, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka tore his watchful gaze away, moving on to the waste bin and releasing the trash balled up in his fists. He then walked over to his desk, putting away the few pencils he found rolling around on the floor. Then he opened the slim drawer at the top of the desk, pulling out a class assignment intended for the students to complete that afternoon.  
Iruka did all of this with a puckered brow and the sternest frown upon his face.  
"Oh come on, Iruka-sensei. Don't give me the cold shoulder," the woman grumbled, crossing her arms. "I was just teasing you. Besides, Kurenai-sensei was right: you are good with children. I think that makes you sexy," she winked.  
Iruka slammed the drawer shut.  
"You're supposed to be following Kakashi-sama. Not me, Anko-san."  
"True," she shrugged, back to leaning against his desk, "but I got tired of falling for his decoys, so I figured it be easier to just follow you."  
"Why?"  
"Ever heard that saying, "You learn a lot about a person, from the people they hang out with…?" Anko tapped her chin, having confused herself with her own statement. "No wait. I think I butchered the phrase, but you get my point."  
Iruka shook his head, more annoyed than amused. While on the job, Iruka knew Mitarashi Anko to be nothing but effective and professional; however, on her own time and left to her own devices, he easily grouped his present superior in with the likes of Shiranui Genma: both shameless, unhinged gossip mongers. Anko-san smiled at him, coyly, crossing her legs, leaning forward and, if he hadn't known her better, he would think that she was flirting with him.  
But he did.  
This was simply the way Anko-san was, and Iruka got the strange impression that she was aware of how uncomfortable the way she was made him feel.  
"Anko-san, it's rare that I understand you," he said, "but I know what you're trying to say. It still doesn't explain why you're here."  
"I'm here to get the truth," she answered sweetly. "I've been hearing some rumors…"  
"Genma-san, may I guess?"  
"Well," Anko rolled her eyes, "Genma-san didn't start them, but he is a useful source of information."  
"He certainly is," Iruka mumbled, sifting through different worksheets. He thought if he could concentrate on this, then Anko-san's overbearing presence might subside. But now he too was curious, reluctant to know anything about the rumors but needing to, to come to terms with the situation. "What is it?" He suddenly inquired.  
"What is what?"  
Iruka paused, the worksheets going still in the clutch of his fingers.  
"What are they calling me, in these rumors? Genma-san said they had a nickname for me…" he murmured. Iruka looked down, frowning, overwhelmed by the idea of not knowing who "they" were. They were a faceless mass of Shinobi who decided to idle their time away spreading rumors…about him.  
"Do you really want to know, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Yes, I do," he shot back, instantly appalled by his tone of voice. "I apologize, Anko-san… I shouldn't have snapped at you."  
"It's alright, Iruka-sensei. I'd be a hell of a lot angrier, if I knew folks out here were spreading rumors about me." Anko watched the chunin go about his tasks, eyeing him with pity. "As for that nickname, I'd rather not say," she admitted, softly. "It really isn't worth uttering, Iruka-sensei, and you're far better than anything these idiots have to make up about you."  
Iruka looked to her, appreciatively. "Thank you," he said.  
"Don't mention it," she smirked. "Still, that doesn't make me any less interested in what's going on between you and Kakashi." Iruka frantically picked up where he left off, busying himself with the titles on the worksheets.  
Anko flung one arm over the other, her smirk turning into a gleeful grin.  
"You know, from all the talk going about, I got the impression that this was a one-way street. But after yesterday…" she shook her head, laughing. "It definitely does take two to tango."  
"You enjoy being vague, Anko-san," Iruka sighed, but he felt the panic in him rising.  
"…You and Kakashi are lovers."  
Iruka dropped the worksheets in his hands, resulting in a confusing mess on his desk.  
"Not vague enough?"  
The chunin worked quick to collect himself, glaring at Anko, while his reddening face transformed into a mixture of fear and distress.  
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Iruka stammered, his voice caught in his throat. He shuffled through the mess of papers, trying to make sense of them, all the while avoiding the tokubetsu jounin's penetrating stare.  
"Kakashi-sama and I are n-not…lovers," he managed in a faltering whisper.  
"Maybe not in a literal sense," Anko shrugged, grinning. "Not yet, at least."  
Iruka fumbled again, a few more papers slipping from his grasp. Anko chuckled, having reduced the chunin into an adorably distraught mess.  
"There is no other sense," he hissed, his eyes shifting across the room in a nervous inspection.  
"Oh, the ever modest Iruka-sensei," Anko chuckled boisterously. "You really are clueless, aren't you?"  
"There's nothing to be clueless about…" Growing more flustered by the second, Iruka gave up trying to group the worksheets into separate piles. He surrendered entirely, dropping all the papers with an exasperated sigh. He looked to Anko, frowning, while the woman batted her eyes in a suggestive manner. "What are you trying to say, Anko-san?" he snapped, holding his hands at his waist. "Whatever rumors you're feeding into, I assure you, they're all lies."  
"I'm not feeding into any rumors, Iruka-sensei," Anko said, frowning. "I don't need to—not after what I saw, yesterday." She stood, firm, with her own hands on her hips.  
"And what did you see?" he inquired, angrily.  
Anko scowled back, annoyed by the chunin's willful ignorance.  
"I saw two Shinobi at peace, content with one another, which is a rare sight to come by for our kind. I watched them share the same company, the same house, and care for the same animals. I watched them while they watched each other as though no one else on earth existed, except for the two of them. I saw them visit the same shops, together, only parting from their little world when they were trying to dodge me," she growled, pointing a jagged finger at herself.  
Iruka stepped back, even though his desk stood between them, acting as a buffer between him and the increasingly aggressive tokubetsu jounin.  
"Kakashi-sama and I are friends," he managed, weakly, but Anko was violently shaking her head 'No' before he even finished speaking.  
"No," she growled. "I know what I saw, and what I saw was not friendship."  
Iruka looked away, anywhere but at Anko-san.  
"The rumors….they're wrong. Dead wrong. I hold no doubt that you have feelings for that show-boating bastard, but it's obvious to me that Kakashi is possessed by you. He's infatuated with you, Iruka-sensei: the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you… His world revolves around you!" she urged, smiling madly. Anko climbed over Iruka's desk, twirling her index finger in front of his face. "Why can't you see that you've got him wrapped around your freaking finger?"  
"Anko-san, you're completely out of line!" Iruka exclaimed. He searched the classroom, again, growing paranoid. What he feared most was that someone might overhear Anko-san's deafening claims, especially when it wasn't uncommon to get the odd visitor; one especially odd visitor, who enjoyed entering from the window. "Please, stop this," Iruka pleaded with the woman, meeting her determined gaze with his own resignation.  
"I will," Anko agreed, moving away, "but admit it. You have feelings for him, don't you?"  
"…I do," Iruka admitted, staring down at his desk.  
Anko nodded, "And he has feelings for you too."  
"I…" Iruka looked back, grief in his eyes. "I don't think he does, Anko-san."  
"Eh?" Anko scoffed, "Were you even listening to a thing I just said?"  
"I was listening," Iruka answered, as it was difficult not to hear anything but the tokubetsu jounin, "and I think you're wrong."  
He then smiled… a smile so pathetically sad and endearing that it nearly had Anko choking on sympathy.  
"Kakashi-sama…that's just the way he is."  
"What?" Anko stumbled back, appalled. "I assure you; that's not the way he is. This human Kakashi you've been exposed to, showering you with affection, has never seen the light of day."  
Iruka froze, watching as two long limbs swung over the windowsill and landed, feet first, on his classroom floor.  
"Let me enlighten you on the real Hatake Kakashi," Anko scowled, but Iruka wasn't listening.  
The real Hatake Kakashi stood from his kneeling position, his half-lidded gaze watching Anko with curiosity. Then he looked to Iruka, the blank expression in his eye causing Iruka's heart to pound heavily within his chest.  
Kakashi smiled and waved, silently walking up from behind.  
"Anko-san…!" Iruka began, but Anko threw a hand in the air.  
"Let me have my word, Iruka-sensei," she barked. "Sure, Hatake Kakashi is a dedicated combatant who's accomplished nothing but great things. As a soldier, he's the best of the best but, as a human being, he's a poor excuse."  
"Anko-san–"  
"I have a friend who ended her Shinobi career quickly after she became a genin. We were at a get-together and he was sitting at the bar. She decided to approach him, and you know what he told her?"  
"I can't imagine, but Anko-san–!"  
"He smiled at her and said that if she'd spent less time picking up drunken men and more time training, she wouldn't have failed as a ninja. What a heartless thing to say!"  
"I know, but…" Iruka pointed behind her, but to no avail.  
"Kakashi once led a security team and kicked one of my men off of it, because he said he didn't like the way my guy smiled. Is he a jerk or what?"  
Anko scowled in unbridled frustration, throwing her arms into the air.  
"The Kakashi I know and everyone else knows has no concept of human civility. He just says whatever he wants to whoever he wants, regardless of who he might step on. He's casual too," she nodded earnestly. "…Wouldn't give another person a second glance, unless they waved an Icha Icha book in his face."  
"…Is that so?"  
"Ack!" Anko cried, leaping forward. She looked to Iruka, angrily. "Why didn't you say he was standing behind me?  
"I tried!" Iruka exclaimed miserably.  
"Maa…Anko-san," Kakashi started in a humorous drawl. "I believe you're misconstruing the facts. I removed your guy from my team, because I discovered he was a spy sent from another village. His creepy smile just so happened to be a red flag."  
"Oh, whatever," Anko griped, rolling her eyes.  
"You're right about your friend, though," he said, his gaze drifting away. "And, for the record, she failed at picking up drunken men too."  
"It's always a pleasure to see you on such lovely afternoons, Kakashi-san," Anko sneered. "By the way, that marketplace was packed, yesterday. It was hard enough trying to keep up with the two of you, but why did you have to send out shadow clones all over the damn place?"  
Kakashi stepped forward, smiling eerily.  
"Anko-san…What did one of my clones tell you not to do?"  
"Follow Iruka-sensei around."  
"And what are you doing?"  
"Following Iruka-sensei arou—oh…you are good," Anko winked, wagging a finger. She looked between the two men, smirking. "Don't blame me; I'm just covering all the bases. It's Yamanaka-san who believes someone from SS needs to know your whereabouts."  
"And now someone does," Kakashi nodded. "But if you're assigned to follow me, Anko-san, you follow me."  
"Okay, fine," she whined. "You both lead a pretty boring life, anyway. I mean, it's not like I can really see what goes on behind closed doors." She turned to Iruka, offering him that mischievous grin he dreaded so much. "In which case, I'd love to sit and watch…"  
"Anko-san!" Iruka shouted, horrified.  
"Ma…?" Kakashi frowned. "Watch what?"  
Anko stared at the man, stunned, before exploding into laughter.  
"This is gonna be so much fun," she sighed, walking towards the door. "I've got work to do," she shot over her collar, "but this was a gem. Take care, you two," she said, leaving.  
In one great rush, Iruka felt the oxygen return to his body.  
"Ma…what was she doing here?" Kakashi asked.  
"I don't know," Iruka smiled nervously, taking a seat. He'd grown light-headed and needed to sit down.  
There was a silence between himself and the older man… Iruka was certain it would have been much more comfortable if not for his own paranoia. He looked to Kakashi, out of the corner of his eyes, watching as the jounin took a seat on the edge of his desk. Then he looked down again, when he was certain the jounin was staring back at him. Iruka ignored the fluttering in his stomach, rifling through worksheets to separate what was meant to be today's work and what was meant to be tomorrow's work.  
"You didn't pack a meal this morning," Kakashi said.  
"I-I didn't," Iruka agreed, his mental capabilities eluding him. "I guess I was eager to get back to teaching and must have forgotten."  
"Have you eaten?"  
"No," Iruka sighed, still refusing to look up. "I went out to run an errand, and I didn't think I'd have enough time to get something to eat."  
"…Okay," the jounin hummed, watching the chunin work diligently. Kakashi looked down, noting how Iruka's hands flinched, his fingers fumbling with the papers in a manner the Hokage had never seen before. "Is something wrong?"  
"What?"  
"Your hands are shaking."  
"Oh…" Iruka looked to his hands, willing them to still. He glanced at Kakashi, briefly, slowly picking back up from where he left off. That's when Kakashi got up from his desk, gaining Iruka's full attention.  
"I'll go get you something to eat."  
"That's alright… I don't have much time left," he sulked, his eyes darting towards the clock.  
"Ne," Kakashi protested, grazing the back of his head. "I'll go pick you up something, anyway. I can stand to watch your class, while you eat."  
Iruka stared at Kakashi, the jounin's rare bouts of thoughtfulness never seizing to surprise him.  
"I would really like that," Iruka said, finding himself smiling. His hands even managed to stop shaking.  
"Good," Kakashi smiled back. "Then I'll just go do that and leave you to your work."  
The jounin clasp his hands together, in a hand seal.  
"Kakashi, wait...!" Iruka reddened, still not used to calling the Hokage by his first name only. He was trying to get use to it. Regardless, Kakashi paused, waiting for him to speak. It was then that the chunin realized he really didn't have anything to say. He knew what he wanted to say, what he would have liked to ask. "Do you…?"  
But he faltered, sinking into his seat, defeated.  
"What is it, Iruka?" Kakashi asked, and the sound of his name falling from the jounin's lips nearly had him thinking about saying something he'd soon regret, all over again.  
"N-nothing," he said quickly, shaking his head. "Thank you…Kakashi."  
"I'll be back," the jounin smiled, disappearing in a puff of smoke.  
Iruka sighed, staring at the place where Kakashi once stood, knowing full well how much he looked forward to the jounin's return.  
Chapter Seventeen  
"Make him stop."  
Sasuke roamed his cell, with movements more fluid than Iruka last recalled. His appearance and surroundings had taken a turn for the better, in his opinion. Sasuke's cell, once a neglected and unkempt dwelling, had been cleaned; certainly not by Iruka's standards, but to a degree that didn't leave his former student lying in filth: the floor had been swept, the walls scrubbed, and even the bedding on Sasuke's cot had been changed and, from the looks of it, fairly recently.  
Sasuke himself looked healthier than Iruka initially anticipated, and that knowledge caused a faint smile to spread across his lips; that, and knowing that he had the Rokudaime to thank for the developing changes.  
Sasuke frowned, confused as to why his former sensei was smiling.  
"Are you listening?"  
"Uh?" Iruka blinked, staring back at Sasuke's scowling face. "Oh…sorry," he said, scratching the bridge of his nose. "You're looking much better."  
"…You already said that."  
"Did I?"  
"Yes, you did." Sasuke grunted, retreating to his cot.  
Iruka lowered his hand, holding it in the palm of his other hand. They sat in his lap, as stiff as the rank and musty air. "I guess… that just shows how much your health really has improved," the chunin suggested, his smile only broadening.  
Sasuke turned back from his cot, dragging a hand through his pitch-black hair. It had grown quite long, in the months of his incarceration.  
"Naruto says I have you to thank for that, Iruka-sensei," he said.  
"Well, it wasn't just me," Iruka said, looking away. He shrugged, "I, uh… I had some help."  
"I know you did."  
The chunin looked up, gawking in the face of Sasuke's obsidian gaze, and he stiffened beneath that gaze. It reminded him of a time not too long ago, when Sasuke stood over him, radiating nothing but killer intent. Not that he radiated killer intent now, but the boldness remained the same. All that was missing was the ominous glow of the Mangekyo Sharingan.  
'Don't be ridiculous,' Iruka mentally chided. 'His powers are subdued.'  
Not once did Iruka ever feel intimidated by the Uchiha, or frightened by him, but his inescapable stare was, and would always be, an unnerving sight to see. He tried to remember if his former student had always looked that way and could not bring forth a memory of having ever seen Sasuke smile. A smirk he'd seen, on plenty occasions, and the gleam in his eyes had always been cold or determined.  
Sasuke looked around, slowly, distrusting his own environment. Long days and even longer nights confined to solitude left him negligibly paranoid. His brow returned to a softer, albeit, troubled expression, however, whenever he looked to his Academy sensei.  
"My cell's been cleaned, my clothes and sheets changed," he emphasized that fact with a pinch of his stained, cloth-pin shirt. "The guards have been changed, as well, and they don't abuse their authority. They feed me, actually," Sasuke scoffed. "These changes do not come about so suddenly as to suggest a mere Academy sensei had anything to do with them."  
"Is that so," Iruka frowned. "I guess it makes sense to come to that conclusion."  
"I meant nothing by it," Sasuke grumbled, eyeing the man wearily. He approached, his pale hands loosely wrapped around his cell bars. "I get why thatidiot's helping me." He never said a name, but with the slight roll of his eyes and the scowl across his lips, Iruka leered, knowing of only one "idiot" the Uchiha would even care to mention. "He thinks he has some moral obligation over me; thinks we're bonded, or whatever," he droned on. "He wants to save me from this." Sasuke looked all around him, his repulsion inescapable, "but you, Iruka-sensei. I thought you were smarter."  
"I'm not trying to save you, Sasuke," Iruka said, ignoring the insult. In some warped way, Sasuke had just paid him a compliment. "I'm trying to help you."  
"Why?"  
"Because," Iruka paused, giving the slightest of grins, "it's the right thing to do." He looked to his hands. "I didn't believe there was much I could do for you, before Naruto came to me. After all, I am a mere Academy sensei…" The chunin shrugged, looking up slightly. "I was never close to you, Sasuke, the way I am with Naruto, and my only tie to you seems to be through him. Regardless," Iruka looked away once more, ashamed. "I should have never let that fact stop me from visiting you. I should have tried to help you in any way I could, sooner. Even if I am just an Academy sensei."  
"Iruka-sensei…"  
"Naruto should have never felt the need to seek my help." The chunin sighed, riddled with guilt. True, his duty to Konoha was relatively minor in the broad sense of things, but Iruka took his responsibilities seriously, and one of those responsibilities was to look out for his students. For Iruka, the responsibility applied to both past and present students. Even if Sasuke was stronger than he was, Iruka was still his superior and should have always been looking out for him.  
"I take back what I said, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka looked up again, worried.  
"You're as much an idiot as Naruto."  
Sasuke fell away from the bars, crossing his arms as he went.  
Iruka fumed.  
"I'm not an idiot for wanting to help you, and neither is Naruto. Not really, at least," he mumbled, his voice trailing away. The chunin would at least admit to a few times where his blonde charge had him wondering. "What's more idiotic is a convicted missing-nin heading for certain death and wanting to deny the people trying to help him."  
"Not everyone," Sasuke glared, "just Naruto."  
"Then who, Sasuke?" Iruka urged. "Who do you want helping you?"  
"Nobody! Come here and keep me company, if it cleans your conscience in some way, but the last thing I need," Sasuke barked, "the last thing I want is naïve idiots like Naruto coming in here, trying to fill my head with false hopes."  
The torch flames flickered behind Iruka's head, dancing wildly. Sasuke's chakra was depleted to its barest existence, but his aura thrived with bitterness and contempt. Where his voice had once been hoarse from disuse, it was once again strong and striking, hitting the walls and reverberating down the isolated corridor.  
Sasuke's mouth was a thin line, his eyes stern slants, and his glare demented.  
"If you really want to help me, Iruka-sensei, you can start by convincing him to stop coming here," the Uchiha sneered, pacing before the bars.  
Iruka followed him with saddened eyes. Even when the most hideous imitation of a smile smeared itself across Sasuke's face and the coldest laugh escaped Sasuke's throat, Iruka could not tear away from the misery gripping his heart.  
"To think…" Sasuke chuckled lowly, throwing a fist against the wall. He leaned up against it, hovering over the rusted basin meant to be his wash sink. Then he looked towards Iruka, a smirk playing on his pale face. "For a second there, Naruto almost had me convinced that it was Kakashi who had a hand in this."  
Iruka's eyes grew wide.  
"How did he –?"  
"Know? Tch…for once in his life, he put two and two together," Sasuke said, staring back at the wall, "but it's not true, is it."  
"That is true," Iruka said, gripping his knees.  
"You're friends with the warden, or something. That's how you got them to stop beating me and start feeding me, I take it."  
"No."  
"…Friends with some of the guards, then."  
"No," Iruka repeated pointedly.  
Sasuke pushed off the wall.  
"Then what? What the hell did you do to get them to stop? What sacrifice are you making to try and save me from this?"  
That's when a spark went off in Iruka's mind and it made sense, much more sense than it was to accept that someone as intelligent as Sasuke would defy all common sense and welcome damnation.  
"Is that why you don't want him coming here, because you think he's sacrificing something for you?" Iruka nearly scoffed, unable to help himself. Nevertheless, why hadn't he seen it before? The chunin nearly smiled, as well, when Sasuke neither confirmed nor denied but simply turned away from him. "That's it, isn't it?"  
"You don't know what you're talking about," Sasuke hissed but it was lackluster, missing the boldness that his baritone so heavily relied upon.  
"I think I do, Sasuke." Iruka smiled sadly. "Naruto has sacrificed a great deal for you, more than he's probably aware of," the chunin sighed, staring down at the stone floor. "Stopping you, from destroying the only home you've ever known, saving you from yourself and coming here to try and save you from persecution, has tarnished his name and you know it."  
Iruka's gaze drifted, counting the bars of Sasuke's cell.  
"The village and the ninja that had finally come to admire and believe in him have turned on him again. Because of you, Sasuke," he whispered, fixing his gaze on that clouded stare. "He gave up his dreams, for you."  
Sasuke advanced, his movements slow, and he leaned forward, looking to Iruka warningly.  
"…Tell Naruto to leave me alone."  
Iruka stared back, his gaze just as firm.  
"No," Iruka frowned. "I won't," he continued, his hands balling into fists. He expected the Uchiha to scoff and turn away or make some insensitive comment, but Sasuke did none of this. Instead, his inky stare bore into the chunin, until Iruka believed his very thoughts were on display. It was a very familiar feeling, one often spurred by the presence of another person Iruka felt just as disturbed as Sasuke.  
"Hm," Sasuke grunted, relenting. He turned slightly, acknowledging Iruka through the corner of his eyes. "I forgot you're just as headstrong as he is."  
"When it matters," Iruka said, smiling weakly. His face fell just as quickly, rooted to the floor. "There is something I did, though. I'm not proud of it, but I know it was the right thing to do."  
"And what was that, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka clasped his hands together, burying them into his lap. He was restless. The fear of admitting what he'd done out loud was immense. He swallowed hard, still horrified by the ethically immoral act he had committed. It went against everything he stood for, and yet he had convinced himself that it was necessary.  
"I, uh…I… There's a… Well, you see…"  
"Spit it out, already," Sasuke griped. "I haven't much time left to live, as you know. I'm forced to listen to one fumbling idiot, day in and day out. So please, don't act as his substitute."  
Iruka glared at the younger man.  
"Team 7 is up for an assignment," he finally managed, encouraged by Sasuke's…attitude. He was finally beginning to understand why Naruto first protested to working alongside the Uchiha. "It came into the Hokage's office and, instead of sending it back, I… I signed it with the Hokage Seal of Approval."  
Iruka shook his head, as though doing so would strike down what he knew to be true. Now Team 7 would leave the village, for the first time in months. Any day now, an opportune request would come into the office assigned to Captain Yamato, Sakura, Sai, and Naruto, and it would all be because of him.  
"Good," Sasuke said, though Iruka could not yet process the Uchiha's monotone. He was still trying to convince himself that what he had done was indeed 'good', as Sasuke suggested.  
"It was the right thing to do," Iruka nodded, tugging at the bottom of his flak jacket. "Naruto cares a great deal for you, Sasuke, but he can't stop his life for you. I won't allow it. He must understand that he has a responsibility to the village, as well, and that he can't abandon that responsibility."  
"Even if the village has turned on him, as you so say," Sasuke spat, with ill-disguised disgust.  
Iruka smiled.  
"Even if the village turns on him, Naruto isn't the type to retaliate. He's not selfish. He might not have achieved so much, if not for a need to prove himself and, if he could do it once, he can certainly do it again. His bond to you is his only obstacle."  
"Tch…Sorry to be a bad influence."  
"You're not a bad influence," Iruka frowned, "but in his pursuit to secure your future, he's forgotten about his own. He needs to complete missions, especially since becoming a jounin."  
"I don't care about that," Sasuke said fleetingly. "What's important is that he'll stop coming here."  
"I didn't say that," Iruka said, eyeing the young man carefully. "I want to help you, Sasuke, but this… I didn't do for you. I did this for Naruto, because I don't want him to give up on his dreams."  
"Mm." Sasuke studied his former sensei just as well. "He doesn't know, does he?"  
"No…he doesn't," Iruka sighed, feeling miserable, "and he'll be upset. Hopefully, an assignment will remind him of why he wanted to become a ninja." The chunin grinned, the image clear in his mind.  
"Sure…" Sasuke scoffed, running his fingers across the roots of his hair.  
"It'll happen," scolded Iruka. "I got the guards changed, didn't I?"  
"No, you didn't change the guards. Whoever you asked to change the guards, changed the guards…and to Anbu, no less," Sasuke muttered, leaning against the bars. "So who was it, Iruka-sensei? Was it the warden? I've ruled out other guards," he mentioned wistfully. "A guard would be a lower rank to Anbu. You must have asked the–"  
"I asked Kakashi," Iruka cut in, firmly, but soon fell silent. Sasuke was watching him, staring at him expectantly. "I-I mean," he stammered, heat spreading across his face, "I asked Kakashi-sama."  
"You're lying," Sasuke said. "Just like Naruto, you're lying."  
Iruka sat speechless.  
"Why would Naruto lie about that?"  
"Why wouldn't he? Because he knows that…" Sasuke stopped, frustrated. "The Rokudaime would never help me."  
"Why are you so sure about that?" Iruka asked, but the Uchiha didn't respond.  
Sasuke kept his glare fixed on the floor, granting Iruka nothing but the spiky tendrils of his hair. Iruka frowned, succumbing to frustration himself. He never thought he'd see the smartest, most capable student to ever graduate from his class believe so little in himself. Sasuke was nothing like Naruto, Iruka knew, in the sense that the boy had never been overly cheerful or optimistic, but he had always been just as strong; just as wanting, just as hopeful, and just as determined to prove himself.  
Iruka stood from his stool, approaching Sasuke's cell. It was surreal to him, but Sasuke was the same height as he was now. He'd grown so much, since his genin days and would probably stand taller than Iruka, by the time he reached his age. It made him feel old, and he was only in his twenties. Of course, more notable than his physical growth was Sasuke's mental growth and fighting capabilities. It reminded Iruka of all the events that had brought Sasuke here, now, to stand before him.  
It also saddened Iruka. The bloodshed and destruction…could it not have been avoided?  
"I'm going to tell you something, Sasuke, something I know to be true even if there's no tangible proof." Sasuke looked up, to Iruka's dismay, because now he was certain that the younger man cleared at least another inch and a half over him. He was almost as tall as Kakashi. "Kakashi-sama wants to help you, more than anything, but…he's afraid."  
"Kakashi…afraid," Sasuke muttered disbelievingly. "I was under the impression that he feared very little."  
"Maybe, but this fear I know of," Iruka said. "I see it, every now and then. It troubles him, bothers him to hear your name, because he's afraid. He's willfully standing aside, while the elders sentence you to death."  
"And why does he fear this, Iruka-sensei?" Sasuke sighed. "If anything I should be afraid, not him."  
"He's afraid of losing you."  
Sasuke gave a hollow laugh, one that sent Iruka's brow crumbling and a chill up his spine.  
"He tried to kill me, twice. He tried to kill me before I killed you, or did you forget?"  
Iruka looked away, a sudden surge of uncertainty coursing through him. No, he hadn't forgotten.  
Kakashi had saved him from certain death, for the second time in a matter of months: first from Pain and again from the young man now standing before him. The allying nations were in the mist of war, when Iruka fell on battle-stricken ground. However, this ground was no obscure field or open plain. It was in their home, on the Academy grounds, where Iruka made rounds to ensure the safe relocation of every villager. Then, to the chunin's shock, Sasuke appeared, not hesitating to run him through with a well-aimed, chakra-infused sword.  
Then Sasuke was gone, and it was not an Uchiha but a general standing over him, protecting his life.  
"Yes," Iruka swallowed, "I remember…but that was different. Kakashi-sama was doing what he thought was necessary to protect the village. He felt it was his responsibility, his duty, and no one else's. Not even Naruto's."  
"Why."  
"Naruto always used to complain about how Kakashi favored you more than anyone else on Team 7, but I think he took an interest in you," Iruka grinned softly, "because he saw himself in you. He understood your pain. He believed he failed you and that he alone deserved to make things right again."  
Sasuke stared at him blankly.  
"It's honor, Sasuke," Iruka smiled.  
"You're insane, Iruka-sensei," Sasuke stated slowly.  
Iruka's eyes grew wide, but a scowl speedily etched itself across his face.  
"Well, you're one to talk," he snapped, gripping his waist.  
Sasuke smirked.  
Iruka looked to him, sighing deeply. He knew what it was Kakashi felt for Sasuke, knew what it felt like to believe in someone so much, to understand and connect with someone so strongly that to see them lose sight of themselves manifested as a physical pain.  
Iruka knew, sensed that Kakashi shared this bond with Sasuke, because he shared that same bond with Naruto.  
"You know," Iruka started, "you and Kakashi-sama are a lot alike."  
"So it would seem," Sasuke sneered, "and were I him, I would forget all about me. Leave me here to rot."  
"Self-pity…" Iruka hummed, crossing his arms. Then he thought an amusing idea. The chunin drawled on, in his best imitation of Kakashi. He even gripped the bottom of his chin and closed his eyes, in the same smug manner. "The Sasuke I knew was at the top of his class and admired by all of his peers. He excelled and never felt sorry for himself."  
"The Sasuke you knew was a fake," Sasuke hissed back, "who was determined to avenge his clan and kill the man responsible for its demise. But that was all a lie, because the man who destroyed my clan was no man but a village that betrayed them."  
Sasuke retreated to his cot and Iruka frowned, watching him go. He welcomed the impending silence, as it gave him time to regroup his thoughts. There was no humor in Sasuke, not that Iruka expected there to be, and he himself felt shame; shame for the actions of Konoha and the truth that everyone now knew but were doing everything in their power to forget, but not Sasuke. How could he forget?  
Iruka could say nothing about Sasuke's motives. After all, he feared to imagine what he might have done, how he would have retaliated had it been his clan, his family.  
"…You need to eat," Iruka murmured, decidedly focused on Sasuke's light-weighted gait.  
"They gave me my first meal already, Iruka-sensei. They're feeding me, but they're not being generous," Sasuke turned. "I've stopped counting the days, but the hours are long and memorable. My first meal came three hours before you should up."  
"It's a Wednesday," Iruka replied sternly, his eyes wandering over Sasuke's still too pale and too malnourished frame. "And I don't care if they gave you your first meal. Your size, your height, and the demand of your spiritual energy require a certain amount of nourishment. This is abuse, even for a prisoner." Iruka snapped his hands back on his waist, anger in his eyes. "It's more than starvation– they could kill you."  
"I believe that's the idea, Iruka-sensei," Sasuke breathed, leaning back against his cot.  
Iruka frowned.  
"You're okay with that?"  
"Two meals a day?"  
"No, I meant–"  
"I know what you meant," Sasuke smirked, tilting his head. "Dying, being killed…" Sasuke's brow furrowed. His dark eyes looked off, somewhere far beyond Iruka's person. "Unlike Kakashi, I have no fears. Starving is a minor inconvenience… I didn't ask for help. I did not ask Naruto to go to you. I did not ask you to come here with food and water; to wonder about how I was and if I was all right, and I did not ask for help from this mysterious person that you claim to be none other than Hatake Kakashi.  
"And I do not fear death, because there is nothing left to live for."  
"I know you don't believe that," Iruka whispered.  
Sasuke glared, his eyes darting towards the chunin.  
"You know? Iruka-sensei, you don't know anything about me," Sasuke growled. "I'm not Naruto, so don't believe I'll feed into your optimistic ideology. Don't patronize me."  
"That's not what I meant to…" Iruka stopped short. Words were failing him. He held very little stance to prove the young man wrong. It was glaringly obvious to Iruka now that the Sasuke he once knew was not the Sasuke sitting before him now. Perhaps the Sasuke he had known was not all he appeared to be after all. Who was he to say that Sasuke didn't always feel this way? Iruka gazed upon The Uchiha's features: his chalky white face, steely stare, and cold black eyes, but not once could he convince himself that a nihilistic, cold-blooded killer was all that Sasuke was.  
It was a façade, and Iruka refused to buy into it, just like Naruto.  
Still, there would be no convincing Sasuke. Not this time, at least. Iruka anticipated many more visits where he could learn a little more about his once most promising student.  
"I'm going to bring back something for you to eat," Iruka relented, "and that is not an argument." He quickly climbed from the stool, patting down his pants to busy himself. He felt his face heating up, in light of the unrelenting gaze Sasuke fixed on him. "Two meals a day," he mumbled on, shaking his head. "That's ridiculous. If anything, you should be eating three meals a day…at least."  
Sasuke pushed off his arms, leaning forward. "How do you plan to do this, Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka stopped just under the archway, his stern stare considering the question. "I'm going to ask them to send in your second meal now, or I'll bring it myself, and I'm going to demand that they feed you more than two measly meals a day."  
"Cheh," Sasuke scoffed. "Your temper was something unsettling, but I doubt it will work on Anbu guards."  
"It damn well better," Iruka said, bearing teeth. "I mean… I'm sure we can come to some agreement." He then blushed, scratching the bridge of his nose. "I'll be back," he said, hearing his voice echo down the corridor.  
"Iruka-sensei."  
"Yes?"  
Iruka reared back at the sound of his name. Sasuke was sitting just as he had been before and, just as before, offered Iruka a steely stare that he had to admit was growing on him.  
"That day, when I tried to kill you," Sasuke blinked, eyelids slow to reveal his unwavering gaze. Iruka felt they missed a certain element, the bright crimson glow of his bloodline limit ability, his Sharingan and the Eternal Mangekyo. As it was, it remained repressed under the weight of chakra restraints. "It wasn't duty that tempted Kakashi into killing me. He lied to me."  
"About what?" Iruka looked on, his curiosity kindled.  
"…Loss."  
Chapter Eighteen  
Icha Icha remained craftily concealed in Kakashi's back pocket. There was no need to pull it out– he was somewhat entertained, already. The bell test, he thought, what a waste of time and energy: the planning, the traps, and the necessary measures taken to set surveillance points. Many times Kakashi had executed, what he believed to be, these necessary measures. He did anything to avoid acquiring a genin team, anything short of overt sabotage, and that included creating an environment just hostile enough to discourage those ambitious, aspiring genin hopefuls.  
This, however, was something far more rewarding.  
"Ease up a little, will ya!" Tsuki wheezed, dodging another blow, but his opponent showed no mercy.  
Take regrouped, swinging forward with a solid fist, and Tsuki threw his arms above his head, blocking in a fleeting attempt to retaliate.  
"Fight back!" Take growled.  
"What do you think I've been doing this whole time?" Tsuki cried, ducking, but Take saw through his slow movements. The smaller boy dipped low, extended one leg and swiped, sweeping Tsuki off his feet. The older boy hissed, the back of his head hitting the ground with a tremendous thud. "Damn it," he groaned, rolling on his back.  
Take looked on, breathing heavily, with strain etched into his face.  
Kakashi watched the two boys fight, relaxed against his tree-post. He'd been monitoring the two for a couple of hours now, taking note of their gradually developing technique. Take's skills progressed faster than Tsuki's, but Tsuki's progression was nearly nonexistent. Blocking, dodging, and retreating seemed to be his only redeeming qualities, and all of those maneuvers made for adequate defense but showed very little offense capabilities. If only Tsuki possessed a stronger spiritual energy, to compensate for his weak taijutsu. As it was, Tsuki's chakra, as a whole, was no greater than that of a young and inexperienced pre-genin.  
Take scowled, gripping the dirt beneath his fingers.  
"You're pathetic," he spat, rising.  
"You made that pretty clear, the first time you said that," Tsuki cringed, looking up.  
Take reached over, his hand outstretched, and Tsuki took hold of it, pulling himself from off the ground.  
"You ready to go again?" Take asked impatiently, but Tsuki waved him off.  
"Just give me a sec…" The slightly older boy was panting, tired from their melee. Where Take remained relatively composed, Tsuki seemed dazed, not yet used to the rigmarole of training. Kakashi stood beside himself, anxious to see what kind of Shinobi the redhead would prove to be. After all, Take's overwhelming amount of chakra left the Hokage with no doubt of where his first charge would excel, but it was Tsuki's slow development, in every aspect of fighting, that made him the ideal opponent. In time he would develop, dealing improved and varied techniques that might catch his younger friend off-guard.  
To think of it this way made Kakashi all that more eager to see them both progress, rather than devote his efforts to Take's strengths alone.  
From what he could tell, however, the once reluctant Take had taken a fast acceptance to Tsuki's involvement, complaining very little and training even harder. This amused Kakashi. Beating up a scarecrow did not compare to the exhilaration felt when up against a real-life opponent, a fact no longer lost on his silver-headed charge.  
As for the training itself, Kakashi had very little difficulty interesting Take and Tsuki in what he had to teach them. He instructed them on specific moves that he expected them to master and exercises that quickly possessed their eager, young minds. Take learned faster than Tsuki and did not hesitate to beat his newly acquired knowledge into the other boy.  
So Kakashi looked on, more or less, invisible.  
"You're always stopping," Take complained but took hold of Tsuki's shoulder, allowing Tsuki to collect himself.  
"What do you expect?" Tsuki grumbled, wiping the dirt from his butt. "You keep coming at me, like a crazed maniac. I can barely catch my breath. Yeesh…! You're trying to kill me, Take."  
"I wouldn't do such a thing," Take mumbled, brushing the dirt from Tsuki's shoulders. "If I killed you, who would I have to train with?"  
Tsuki grinned, wiping spittle from the corner of his mouth.  
"You ready?" Take asked, taking a few measured steps back.  
Tsuki eyed him, backing into his own fighting stance. "Give me your best shot."  
Take attacked him, not one to hold anything back, and Tsuki dodged, just in time to avoid an elbow to the jaw.  
"Nice try!" Tsuki yelled, skidding back. The redhead ran forward, grinning madly, only to stop short when he realized that there was no one in sight to charge. "What the…?"  
"Hiyah!" Take leapt behind the other boy, planting a sharp kick between Tsuki's shoulder blades. The boy howled in pain, crashing into the dry, merciless ground. Take landed, seconds after Tsuki, standing over the other boy's pain-stricken body.  
Kakashi jolted but remained at his post. As one of his conditions, he told the boys that he wouldn't intervene, so long as he remained aware of the situation. The jounin saw what had happened, saw Take channel his chakra into the maneuver, maintaining the attack with very little control. That lack of control sent Tsuki, who possessed a very weak stance, flying into the air. Now, Tsuki would suffer a few minor scrapes and bruises but nothing too serious; nothing that would gain the attention of a fretful, overly worried and ever-watchful chunin sensei who, if ever found out about any of this, would deal Kakashi a very lengthy lecture followed by the coldest of shoulders.  
It was necessary, the jounin believed, that Take and Tsuki see the difference between their Academy exercises and the training they completed here. Kakashi was not in the business of holding hands, a handicap he was certain they'd grown quite accustom to, at the Academy. If they wanted to train, if they wanted to learn, then they would learn in the manner Kakashi was taught, many years ago. The White Fang showed him very little sympathy when he experienced pain and no mercy when he fumbled or miscalculated the effectiveness of his attacks, because the White Fang knew that the life of a ninja was no duty to take lightly. To treat it as some family inheritance was shameful; if one wanted to possess the Will of Fire, like the White Fang, then one had to prove self-dedicated beyond all comparison.  
Kakashi crossed his arms over his midsection, readjusting himself against the tree bark. There was another reason the jounin chose not to get in between Take and Tsuki's sparring matches, the reason responsible for his recent epiphany.  
"Are you okay?" Take asked, kneeling low. He examined the other boy, hovering over Tsuki who rolled over in agony.  
"I'm fine! I'm fine, I'm fine," Tsuki chanted in repetition, clutching at his side. With a furrowed brow, Take reached down again to help his classmate to his feet. Tsuki swung his arm out, grasping Take's forearm.  
"You're an idiot," Take said, rolling his eyes.  
"Heh," Tsuki smirked.  
Take helped Tsuki to his feet, and Kakashi watched this seemingly insignificant act with some satisfaction.  
The purpose of the bell test was to see if a group of individual fighters could come together, as a team, to achieve a common goal. Granted, Kakashi once despised the idea of taking on a team, but he was willing to tolerate a group of genin who could complete this simple feat. Before Team 7, no other group of graduating pre-genin managed to come close. More than anything, they failed to come to terms with the idea of a team-based succession. The strongest of a newly formed team would try to overpower his or her teammates, while the smartest attempted to foil their tactics, leaving the weakest member to try, and fail, to take the bells alone. Kakashi believed this to be a sound divide, were there three bells to take, but there being only two bells changed the dynamic and the purpose of the test from individual gain to a common interest.  
Kakashi never expected a group of recently Academy graduated genin to understand this concept. Out of all the groups he tested, including the one team he passed, not one came to realize that working together would be the only way to beat the test. Nevertheless, teamwork was an inherent trait of a true Shinobi, one that would manifest through even the most pathetic team of recently Academy graduated genin.  
The goal of these training sessions would be quite simple: to improve fighting technique. Alone, Take could accomplish this relatively fast. With Tsuki around, however, Kakashi first had his doubts. Take, who prided himself on being far more advance than his peers, surely wouldn't tolerate the lag Tsuki would surely bring to the training. At best, Kakashi expected Take to protest and train, reluctantly, with Tsuki, solely to prove his superiority.  
This didn't appear to be the case.  
Kakashi watched them fight, and he could say with some accuracy that Tsuki spent more time on the ground than he did attacking his opponent. But whenever Take knocked the redhead down, the response was always the same. Take assisted the other boy, sometimes going as far as showing Tsuki what he'd done wrong, and the two were back to sparring. Take showed no disgust for Tsuki's obvious lack of skill, and Tsuki held no resentment for his constant defeat. They behaved not as opponents in the traditional sense but as teammates fighting one another to help better hone their skills.  
Tsuki's unwillingness to back down and Take's refusal to hold back demonstrated a clear understanding of mutual gain, as the two worked to achieve a common goal. The two young boys understood what older, genin teams had not and in a manner more productive than chasing Kakashi for his bells.  
So Kakashi looked on, pleased, wondering why he never before thought to have genin teams fight each other. It would have been more helpful to have them believing that a sure spot on the team was granted to the person who defeated their teammates. If truly meant to be a Shinobi, the genin would come to realize that turning against a teammate and sacrificing them for a mere personal gain would be a sure way to failure.  
"Ma…Take, Tsuki," Kakashi called out, stopping the two boys before they could begin another row. They turned to him, their faces marked with scrapes and smudged with dirt. The jounin could tell they were doing their best to conceal how tired they were, so not to disappoint him or their sparring partner. Kakashi thought it endearing, pitiably so, especially since both boys looked ready to drop on the spot. "We're done for the day," he said, waving them over.  
"Good." Take gave Tsuki a side-glance. "I'm tired of beating the crap out of you," he breathed, stalking away.  
Tsuki followed behind, grinning stupidly. "You weren't beating me. I almost had you that last time."  
"What last time?" Take growled, staring at the other boy as though he'd lost his mind. Tsuki broke out into a laugh, wrapping an arm around the smaller boy, and Take gave Tsuki a dirty look but did nothing more, too proud to admit how tired he was to push Tsuki's dead weight off him. Instead, he turned his attention to the jounin standing just a few yards away, incapable of all but glaring at the man.  
"Hey, Hokage-sama."  
"Mm?"  
Tsuki released his hold on Take, running towards Kakashi. "When am I going to get to fight you?"  
"Ne…?" Kakashi's dull gaze fell on the boy, his eyebrow rising ever so slightly. But Tsuki watched him, with the widest smile and the buggiest blue-eyed stare Kakashi hadn't witnessed since a very young and eager Naruto. "Never," he answered.  
"Eh?" Tsuki whined, frowning.  
"No one's going to fight him before me," Take scowled, snapping his arms together.  
Kakashi sighed, shoving his hands down his front pockets. "Ne, I'm not fighting anyone. Not yet," he drawled. "Take, you're taijutsu has improved, but there's far more you need to learn before you can fight me. Tsuki," Kakashi paused, a smile forming in his eye, "you've got some way to go. Take's taren ken was met with raised arms when I specifically instructed you to duck and swipe."  
"I did that," Tsuki sulked, "but Take jumped."  
"And the shou-geki-shou?"  
The redhead rubbed the nape of his neck, grimacing. "That's how I ended up on the ground that last time. Take used it first."  
"Then you use it second. With any luck, it'll give you the opportunity to catch your opponent off-guard, to use their move against them." In theory, it seemed pointless. In practice, imitation was a highly effective technique. Being the Copy Nin that he was, Kakashi knew this to be a tried and true fact. "Mah…Grab your stuff. It's time to go."  
Take and Tsuki grumbled but clamored near the base of the tree to pick up their school bags. Kakashi waited for them, staring into the distance. The sun was setting, leading the afternoon into a twilight hour, and Kakashi could see the first signs of nightfall creeping up behind the distant compound. He figured now would be a good time to walk the two boys back to the center of the village, before their familiar began to wonder where they were.  
"Hokage-sama, what is this place?" Tsuki asked, pulling his bag over his shoulder.  
"We're on clan grounds," Kakashi replied, "sitting on the edge of the village."  
"Ooh," Tsuki cooed. "What clan is it?"  
"An extinct one," Kakashi went on to say, turning on his heels. The two boys caught up with him, following beside him, their haggard footsteps picking up puffs of dust and dirt. He set the speed of their trek to a moderately slow pace, in light of their worn-out state, but Kakashi did not intend to wait for them. He wanted to return them at a decent time but, more importantly, Kakashi didn't want to be caught in the late night crowds and shift changes. In addition, he was not aware of Tsuki's family situation. Unlike Take, he might have parents in the village, somewhere, wondering where he was. They would most likely turn to their son's Academy instructor first, as the last adult to have seen their child.  
"An extinct one? As in dead?" Tsuki stopped, frowning. "That's terrible."  
"Not really," Kakashi said. "Clans come and go, as people do. The family name may be lost, but bloodlines live on through external unions."  
"Huh?" Tsuki gripped the arm of his bag, catching up.  
The jounin shrugged. "Villagers of great nations tend to live under a ridiculous misconception."  
"What's that?" Tsuki asked, gawking at him.  
Kakashi looked down, casually, his eye a half-lidded stare.  
"The strongest clans are known by distinct traits that don't always show up in every member but are frequent enough to leave a signature of sorts. When outsiders see this signature, they assume that these traits survive solely on a succession of unions from within the family."  
"Ugh!" Tsuki made a face.  
Kakashi ruffled through silver strands of hair. "It's not what you think," he chuckled nervously. "The relations are kept relatively distant."  
"So…then how do these bloodlines live on?"  
"Well, this is the misconception," Kakashi continued. "Because certain traits are so strong and reoccurring, the fact that many clan families divide and migrate is often overlooked." Kakashi looked back, but the high stone walls and iron-plated gates had long since been engraved into his memory. "The clan that once lived here…is not really dead. It lives on, in other nations, thriving under different names."  
"Cool!" Tsuki beamed. "You hear that, Take? Clans live all over the place. Hey, maybe someone from my family married into a clan…I could be related to a king! Take? Take!"  
Kakashi reacted fast, just as Tsuki caught sight of his falling friend. The jounin scooped Take up before he collapsed to the ground. He palmed the small boy's head, taking note of his lidded eyes and softening brow.  
"W-what's wrong with him?" Tsuki stammered, hovering between the two.  
Kakashi knelt down.  
"He passed out, exhausted," the jounin said, running a hand down the side of Take's face. Beyond the dirt, the grime and sweat, lay heated skin, despite the biting cold. He pressed his hand to the boy's chest, registering his deep breathing. "He's overworked. Probably wasn't training on enough energy to begin with," he told Tsuki, but his one, visible eye remained alert and fixed on Take.  
Kakashi hooked an arm beneath Take's legs and picked him up, wrapping the boy's limbs around his shoulders and midsection, and cupped his hands beneath the boy's legs to situate Take's dead weight against his back. He turned to Tsuki, offering the rattled boy a reassuring smile.  
"Ne… He'll be fine," he said. "Take's been pushed to execute some very tiring technique. I should have known he'd be too stubborn to quit while he was ahead."  
"This didn't happen last time," Tsuki whimpered.  
Kakashi glanced back, gathering Take in his vision. So accustom to a scowl and furrowed brow that the peaceful expression on the boy's face was something unusually captivating to the Hokage.  
"No, it didn't," Kakashi agreed, "but I'm sure there are plenty of factors contributing to Take's exhaustion. Like his low energy, something he's been going to great lengths to conceal."  
"Conceal? What do you mean by that?" Tsuki asked, but Kakashi didn't answer. He put his own unease aside, offering Tsuki another crinkled grin. The boy was too unsettled, his eyes darting towards Take more times than Kakashi cared to count. It was worry and a strong sense of it, almost enough to challenge even a most overly distraught Iruka.  
Kakashi reached out, patting the top of Tsuki's head.  
"Na, na…never you mind," he murmured. "It's nothing serious."  
"Are you sure?"  
"I'm sure."  
"Okay," Tsuki exhaled. He looked to Kakashi with a hesitant grin. "I trust you Hokage-sama."  
"Good," Kakashi nodded. "Shall we proceed?"  
The two walked on, with Kakashi carrying Take on his back. Tsuki reached down to pick up Take's bag. It was a small tote bag, with only a notebook and a few loose-leaf papers in it, so he made quick to unzip his own bag and shove Take's inside. When he was done, he quickened his steps, catching up to match the Hokage's pace.  
"It's getting darker sooner," Tsuki commented, filling the silence. He looked up above, through the gaps in the trees, to see the first few stars appear in the sky.  
"The seasons are changing," Kakashi supplied.  
"Why are we coming all the way out here to train, anyway? Why couldn't we just use the training grounds?"  
"Mah…training grounds are common use," he explained, "and clan grounds are private property. People are less likely to come by this way," and were someone to search for the Hokage, it would most likely be the last place they'd look. "This is a very secluded area, removing the possibility of detection."  
"Are we hiding from someone?"  
"…You could say that," the jounin replied, his eye fixed on the road ahead. The thought of that particular someone came to mind, forcing him to marvel on the irony. In the last two days, Kakashi had seen less of a certain chunin sensei than he appreciated. Bringing Take and Tsuki to train this far from the center of the village, was an auxiliary measure more than a real need for evasiveness. Kakashi still felt it necessary, even if that "someone" seemed to be avoiding him.  
"Is it Iruka-sensei?"  
"Mm?" Kakashi's visible eye grew wide, staring down at Tsuki. "What makes you say that?"  
"I don't know," Tsuki said, shrugging. "Take says you're afraid of Iruka-sensei. He said you'll stop training him, if Iruka-sensei finds out. Why's that?"  
Deep blue eyes stared back at him, questioningly, and Kakashi knew what he wanted to tell the boy. It would have been easy to tell him exactly what he told Take, that telling Iruka-sensei would be a bad idea and leaving it at that. On the other hand, he could tell Tsuki the truth, that his and Take's safety was and would always be Iruka-sensei's first priority, and training with an elite, former ANBU Hokage was as far from safe as it could possibly get.  
"You're familiar with Iruka-sensei, I'm sure."  
"Familiar?" Tsuki snickered, "You bet! He says I'm a troublemaker and that he has to keep his eyes on me, but that's only because I'm his favorite and he knows it," the redhead boasted.  
"Of course," Kakashi kept a thin smile, but his eyebrow disappeared beneath his headband. "Anyway, Iruka-sensei's favorite student especially must know how passionate he is about teaching his students," Tsuki nodded eagerly, beaming at the jounin, "but what matters to Iruka-sensei even more than that is his students' wellbeing. Understand?"  
"I think so," Tsuki muttered. "Are you going to hurt Take then?"  
"Ne…Not if I can help it," he uttered, squeezing Take's leg, "which is why you and Take must train together– grow stronger together. Take's chakra is very strong but unpredictable, and he should learn to control it sooner than later. For this, the Academy cannot help him, despite Iruka-sensei's good intentions. However," Kakashi breathed, twigs cracking and snapping beneath their footsteps. He looked down to the grimy knuckles beneath his chin. "Take's a very smart boy. I'm sure his inability to control his more advance capabilities is the reason he has yet to graduate before the cut-off age."  
"What about me?" Tsuki started to sulk, clutching to the strap of his bag. "Do I have strong chakra? I mean, Take's right… I am a bit pathetic, ain't I," he went on to mumble, staring at the ground, "and the other kids say I'm useless in exercises…"  
"Your energy is adequate enough," Kakashi said, wanting to encourage the boy for reasons beyond his comprehension. He reached out again, ruffling through Tsuki's hair. "You're no different than your peers. They're just as inexperienced as you are, and they don't have the advantage of training with the Rokudaime," Kakashi mentioned, watching Tsuki's spirit rise. "Remember that, Tsuki."  
"Yes sir!" Tsuki grinned.  
"And remember," Kakashi smiled, raising an index finger into the air. "If Iruka-sensei finds out that the Hokage is teaching his young students advance and dangerous technique, the Hokage will end up in a lot of trouble."  
"Yes sir!" Tsuki grinned, saluting playfully.  
Kakashi and Tsuki walked on in silence, filling the void with rustling and shuffling sounds. The deeper into the forest they travelled, the more plentiful the foliage, and the two eventually found themselves treading over large patches of fallen twigs and leaves. The many thick trees lining the narrowing path had effectively blotted out the sky.  
"Hey, Hokage-sama?"  
"Hm?"  
"Why do we have to train so late?"  
"Ma… the Academy doesn't let out until three."  
Tsuki gazed up, his face drooping. "We've been training since then. It's almost night time. Ever since Iruka-sensei came back, he's been giving us tons of homework and, if I don't pass this week's test, Baa-chan will have my head!" he whined. "She's a tough old lady to please, ya know."  
"Mm, I take it you live with an older family member?" Kakashi asked, strangely intrigued.  
"Yep," Tsuki nodded, "Grandma. She's the oldest lady I know. She's also the strongest," the redhead grumbled, "and if I show up late again, she's going to whack me with her broomstick."  
Kakashi gave Tsuki a pitying smile.  
"Tell your grandma that you're training with the Hokage."  
Tsuki gaped at the Rokudaime, his eyes growing wide.  
"Really?"  
"No."  
"Oh."  
"That was a joke."  
Tsuki looked down, scrunching his face.  
"Hm…" Kakashi hummed, readjusting Take's limbs. To the untrained eye, the forest seemed like an endless field of brush and tree. Kakashi, however, was an expert of these parts and knew the length and direction of every path. Their party would soon land themselves on the edge of the training grounds, and with enough time to spare. "I guess we could afford to shorten our sessions," the jounin muttered thoughtfully.  
"Yosh!" Tsuki threw a fist in the air.  
"Still, we should start as soon as possible. Iruka-sensei's shift starts at three-thirty. I figured he'd be too busy to come looking for me. If he does come looking for me, he'll certainly find me," he shrugged, "something he's surprisingly good at." Kakashi continued, "If he finds me, he'll certainly discover what we're doing…"  
He looked to Tsuki.  
"Ma, let's push training to three-thirty and end at five. That should give you plenty of time to finish your homework, beforehand, and return home at a more suitable hour," Kakashi finished, expecting Tsuki to leap up with joy or tackle him, all expected responses. To his surprise, Tsuki remained beside him, tilting his head, his stubborn stare shifty and indiscernible. "Yes?"  
"…Take was right. You really are afraid of Iruka-sensei, aren't you?" The boy began to snicker, until his shaking shoulders gave way to a boisterous laugh. The sound of his cackling disturbed their environment, like the few birds that chirped and flew away. "I don't believe it!" he exclaimed, his eyes squeezing shut. "The Hokage is afraid of Iruka-sensei!"  
"Matte…" Kakashi's eye grew annoyed. "No need for ridiculous claims," he stated tightly, but his words went unheard.  
"Wow…" Tsuki marveled at the newfound idea, his eyes bulging with all the possibilities. "My sensei is feared by the Hokage. He must be tough!" Tsuki grinned. "I mean, I knew Iruka-sensei was tough, but I didn't think he was that tough. I wonder what he would do to you, if he found out!"  
Properly badger me to death, Kakashi thought, but to fear Iruka's lectures was not a real fear, was it?  
"I don't want my favorite grown-up to be responsible for hurting the Rokudaime!"  
"Ne–"  
"Is it true? Could Iruka-sensei really hurt you?"  
Kakashi went to speak but stopped himself, contemplating the question. That's when a familiar fear gripped him, and it was brief but strong, like the lingering pangs of a battle wound. This fear crept up on him, every now and then; at the memorial stone, mostly, where he visited those already taken from him. He never thought he'd feel the same fear for someone who threatened to leave him.  
"There are many ways to hurt someone, Tsuki," he said at last.  
There was a moment of silence.  
Tsuki fixed him a beady stare, and Kakashi adamantly ignored it.  
"You didn't answer my question," the redhead grumbled.  
"Now, now," Kakashi waved, "let's not dilly-dally. Look there…" He nodded towards the distant opening at the end of the path, its arched entrance growing wider with every step. "We're almost at the training grounds. You should head straight home, when we reach the main road."  
Kakashi turned towards the boy, his eye smiling.  
"Mah, we wouldn't want you to get whacked with a broomstick, now would we?"

"What's up, lover boy?"  
Iruka froze, dropping the papers in his hands. Only his eyes managed to move, snapping up at the tokubetsu jounin in a state of sheer mortification. There stood Anko, the tokubetsu jounin leaning up against his desk, with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face.  
"Anko."  
"Who else?" She grinned and winked, and Iruka wanting nothing more than to wipe the smugness from her glossy lips.  
The chunin gazed around, paranoid, searching the room with a flustered glare. The Missions room was relatively empty, for this hour, which Iruka found a fortunate and a shame. His shift was nearly over, so there was nothing more pleasing to the eye than not seeing a line of Shinobi so long that it reached beyond the door and down the hall.  
Once Iruka was finished filing these reports, he was free to leave, go home, and call it an early night. At the same time, the idea of leaving the office in this barren state left him disgruntled if not a bit peeved. Why was the Missions room always bustling with activity, busy and to its full capacity, during his shift? Why not on someone else's shift like, say, during Genma's shift? The other man slacked off more than any other ninja he knew, and Iruka knew plenty of lazy ninja.  
"Don't call me that," Iruka hissed. He worked fast at cleaning up his desk, reordering the reports at top speed. At the end of the day, he liked to pile them up in alphabetical order. Doing so made the sorting process easier.  
"What? Don't call you 'Lover Boy', Lover Boy?" Anko purred, chuckling at the sight of Iruka's beet-red face. "Oh come on, Iruka-sensei. I'm only having fun with you."  
"And I wish you would stop that," Iruka huffed. "Anko-san…"  
He sighed, keeping even his grumbles low. True, the two other workers seated beside him had already clocked out, but there remained two other colleagues on both ends of the table. In the lounge area, two chunin sat chatting amongst themselves and, in the corner of the room, stood a returning jounin hastily filling out a last-minute report.  
The jounin came barging into the room, drenched in sweat and covered in dirt, hoping that someone at the desk would take pity on him. It was then that the two workers sitting beside Iruka left, while the two at each end completely ignored the desperate jounin. Iruka ended up taking pity on the jounin, knowing that doing so would only delay him further.  
He gave him five minutes to complete the report and write out a cover form explaining why the report was late.  
"…Anko-san, I acknowledge that you and I have been on good terms for many years now, but yesterday was highly inappropriate."  
Iruka's voice grew stern.  
"You had no right to delve into my personal life the way you did. Who I'm with and what I do, outside of work, is none of your business. So please, don't ever again take advantage of our friendship like that."  
Iruka looked away and gulped, the warmth of nervousness rushing to his face.  
"Iruka-sensei," Anko whispered, her surprise making Iruka feel even guiltier. "That's a load of crap, and you know it."  
"What?" The chunin made a face.  
"Please," Anko sighed, rolling her eyes. "Don't punish me, just because I'm the only one capable of reading between the lines." She sat in her hip, gripping her trench coat tightly. "I'm willing to bet you've talked plenty with Izumo and Kotetsu, and yet you don't get mad at them when they throw the truth in your face. My…" Anko leaned in, resting her elbows against the table. She whimpered, teasingly, holding her chin in the palms of her hands. "Was it the circumstance? Are you afraid your ignorant love interest might have overheard?"  
"Yes," Iruka hissed, his eyes shifting from side to side, "just as I fear people here will overhear. No offense, Anko-san, but you're not exactly discreet."  
"No offense taken, Iruka-sensei," she said, and proudly so, "but even you should know that I would never betray your trust." She pulled away from the desk, frowning. "I honestly had no idea he'd come swinging in through the windowsill like that. I would have never brought it up, had I known the jerk was on the prowl."  
"I know, Anko-san."  
Iruka managed a thin-lipped smile, going about his newly made work. He glanced sparingly over to the jounin in the corner, the Shinobi now speedwriting across the pages he shoved carelessly up against a bland blue wall. It made the chunin feel better knowing that he'd sacrificed an early exit for a jounin who clearly cared about submitting a report in a timely manner. Unlike some other jounin Iruka knew, one who never broke a sweat and even had the audacity to admit not bothering to complete a report.  
The chunin shook his head.  
"Do you know?"  
"Know what, Anko-san?"  
Anko bit her lip, readjusting the belt around her waist.  
"Do you think he overheard us talking?" she clarified, a foreign look of unease in her eyes. Iruka could have laughed. There stood Mitarashi Anko, a woman he knew to fear nothing but fear itself, fettered by worry over him and his predicament. Yet he could not possibly laugh, not even if someone recited to him the funniest joke. He, too, was overwhelmed by worry, coupled with fear and embarrassment. Iruka had gone out of his way to avoid Kakashi, as of late: leaving for the Academy at an earlier hour, using his lunch hour to run errands, and taking shorter shifts to return home before the jounin did.  
Iruka spent the last two nights in bed, unable to sleep at such an early hour, staring at the ceiling wondering the same thing.  
"I honestly don't know," Iruka said pitifully, closing his eyes. "I've been avoiding him," he admitted, throwing another report on top of a growing pile.  
"You think that's a good idea?" Anko looked around, leaning forward once more. "I mean, he's bound to notice something's up, eventually. This is Kakashi we're talking about," she whispered.  
"Don't have to remind me," the chunin mumbled, but his shoulders fell in resignation. "Maybe I should just come by his office…pay him a visit."  
"Good luck with that," Anko snorted, crossing her arms.  
"What do you mean by that?" Iruka frowned.  
"I've been tailing that insufferable man, all damn day," she growled, looking away. She looked positively pissed, leaving Iruka to guess that something had gone tragically wrong in her perfectly planned tracking. "I leave for a second, one second, to have a meeting with my unit, and the next thing I know, Poof! He's gone!" Anko threw her arms into the air, catching the other two desk workers' attention. Then they resumed their processes, packing their bags to leave. "That bastard's been gone from his office since this afternoon– left Hagane and Kamizuki to pick up his slack!"  
"Is that so?" Iruka looked down, smiling to himself.  
"You may be able to put up with his crap, but I'm not," she scowled.  
"He knew you were following him," Iruka said knowingly, unable to rid himself of an unwarranted smirk. He struggled, internally, trying to get a hold of his exhilarated heart. "He waited for the opportune moment to lose you."  
"Like I said…he's a jerk."  
"He is."  
"…And you care a great deal for him."  
"I do."  
"Which is why I had to get the truth from you, Iruka-sensei," Anko said, her voice down to level Iruka thought incapable of her.  
He grew confused. Why did his feelings matter at all?  
Anko leaned in once more, so close that the space between them was minute, and while Iruka tried pulling the reports from beneath her arms, the woman fixed him a serious gaze.  
"I'm all for fun and games, but this is the Hokage we're talking about. It's important that the people close to the Rokudaime are as committed to him as he is to them."  
"Anko-san, I don't think–"  
"Please, spare me your doubts," Anko mumbled, waving Iruka silent. "You may not want to believe it's the truth, but it is, and whatever this is between the two of you can easily be manipulated by an unfriendly third party. Whatever your fears or insecurities, Iruka-sensei, I need to know that these faults won't jeopardize the safety of this village or the morale of its leader."  
"Anko-san… W-what are you saying?" The words barely escaped the chunin's mouth, and his gaze couldn't quite meet Anko's light-brown stare, but his fervent blush betrayed him most of all.  
"I'm saying, Iruka-sensei," she backed away, slowly, standing upright, "you're a lot more powerful than ya think."  
"Oh damn, did I make it? Did I make it?" At last, the jounin scrambling to fill out his report came forward, rushing up to stand beside Anko. He beamed, proudly, presenting to Iruka the crinkled and sloppy couple of papers. "Sorry for the state it's in!" he stammered.  
"I-It's fine," Iruka chuckled, offering the man a slight grin.  
He couldn't be more pleased to receive his last report for the day, just as the man before him couldn't have been more relieved to have turned it in. The jounin grazed a hand through his short, sandy-blonde hair, looking blissfully towards Anko. In return, Anko glanced back, looking him up and down. She smirked.  
"Thank you, Mokume-san. That'll be all."  
"You heard Iruka-sensei," Anko hummed, turning, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "You're done here, Mokume-san, so how 'bout you come hang out with me and buy me a drink?"  
"S-sure," Mokume-san said, as though he couldn't believe his luck.  
"See ya later, Iruka-sensei," Anko said, leaving, with Mokume-san close on her heel.  
"Good night, Anko-san," Iruka smiled, waving shortly.  
He sighed.  
He looked to his left and to his right, noting that his fellow colleagues had long since disappeared. Any moment now, a new shift would arrive to take their place. He commiserated with the evening shift, knowing well the long night that awaited them.

Anko strutted down the hall, every now and then, running a hand down the side of Mokume's arm. She turned to bat her lashes in a teasing fashion and, in return, Mokume grinned like a fool. If she was lucky, the tokubetsu jounin could easily get a few drinks out of the joker trailing behind her. Better yet, Anko imagined a relaxing night out, at the shops, with a man willing to foot the bill for however many servings of dango she dare stuff down her gullet.  
"Anko-san?"  
"Mm?" The two flirting jounin stopped. "Oh," Anko said, granting the newcomer a broad smirk. "What can I do for you, Yamato-san?"  
Yamato cleared his throat, observing the two other jounin. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."  
"Not yet," Anko purred, glancing back. "It depends on how long you hold us up."  
"Right," Yamato chuckled nervously. "Did you just leave the Missions room?" he asked, pointing towards the room.  
"You bet," Anko winked.  
"Is Iruka-sensei in there?"  
"Well, it's not an imposter."  
"Great," Yamato breathed. "Thanks."  
"No problem."  
Anko and the unknown jounin passed Yamato by, turning down the hall. He watched them go, briefly, before opening the door.

The room was empty now, with the exception of Iruka. The other chunin were gone too, taking the sound of their chatter and occasional laughs somewhere else. Alone now, Iruka took to the slots on the walls, making sure to go down each letter of every row to toss every report into the appropriate shelf. Not only categorized alphabetically, but the shelves were also divided by rank.  
There was more ground to cover before Iruka could go home. Unlike his colleagues, most of who shoved their piles into manila files and sent them to the document staff to sort out, Iruka made sure to send every report he received to the appropriate department himself.  
Perhaps this was why so many fellow Shinobi came to him to turn in their reports, he thought encouragingly, racing back and forth between categories. After all, the sooner a report made it into its proper circulation, the faster its applicant received another assignment. A jounin could wind up sitting around for weeks, because their previous report landed in chunin circulation by accident. It would take at least a week for chunin circulation to fish it out and send it to the appropriate department.  
"Iruka-sensei?"  
Iruka paused, the reports in his arm going limp. They were the last pile that needed to be sorted and filed; twenty, at least, and he could accomplish this task with one hand tied behind his back while blindfolded.  
The chunin needn't turn to see who it was, as he knew that commanding but friendly voice. He did so, however, out of respect for the other man.  
"Hello, Yamato-san," he said, smiling.  
"Iruka-sensei," Yamato said again, nodding.  
"What brings you to the Mission's room?" Iruka asked, continuing his work.  
"You, actually." Iruka stopped, startled. Bold eyes stared back at him, pleasantly. "I was wondering if we could talk, if you don't mind."  
"S-sure," Iruka said, surprised but not displeased by the idea. "Just let me finish up here, and you can walk out with me."  
Yamato grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

By the time Kakashi and Tsuki reached the training fields, the sun had long since set, giving way to a sickly orange hue now fading into a dark blue sky. The wind blew forcefully, bending the tallest blades of grass. Kakashi kept to the trails that footsteps had long since stamped into the ground, where no grass would ever grow again.  
"Mah… Remember what I said, Tsuki," Kakashi drawled, staring at the tree tops in the distance. They framed the darkening sky like crooked teeth, devouring the remnants of a bright light.  
"Right," Tsuki nodded eagerly. "Go straight home, and no detours."  
"Correct."  
"Believe me, Hokage-sama," the boy shivered. "With the way Baa-chan handles a broom, I wouldn't want to make any detours."  
"That's good," Kakashi chuckled.  
"What about Take?"  
"Mm?" Kakashi turned to look back at the sleeping boy. "What about him?"  
"Well, he's gotta go home too, right?" Tsuki asked, looking to his friend. "Will you wake him up, or are you gonna take him home?"  
Kakashi looked to Tsuki, noting the blue tint to his skin. It was the night sky, reigning victorious over the receding sun and painting everything a shade of blue. The jounin imagined that he, with his pale skin, appeared light blue. He looked down, and the boney legs dangling from his sides were a dark blue. It was then he realized he had no clue where Take lived and did not intend to take him wherever that may be. In Kakashi's defense, Take passing out was not something he anticipated having to deal with, somewhat of a miscalculation on his part.  
It seemed to the jounin that he'd been making quite a few miscalculations in recent days.  
"Ne, do you know where he lives?" Kakashi inquired.  
"I have no idea," Tsuki shrugged.  
"Let's get to the main road. Take may wake, by then."  
Hopefully, Take would wake. At the same time, however, it was important that the boy get as much rest as possible. Here, the jounin was torn by the time it would take to find out where Take lived and his desire to return to Iruka's before Iruka did: let Take rest or wake him up.  
"I hope there isn't anyone waiting for Take to beat him with a broom," Tsuki said, shuddering for his friend.  
Konoha glowed at night, littered with specs of gold emitting from light posts and hanging lanterns. The road, too, bathed in this light, overshadowing the steep hill below, and Kakashi and Tsuki would have to climb up this grassy hill in order to reach it. For Kakashi, this was no feat but, for Tsuki, this would surely be a challenge. As far as the jounin was concerned, the slightly older boy had trained just as long and hard as his younger counterpart, despite not collapsing.  
Kakashi imagined that a boy Tsuki's age would be well sustained, in body and mind, by a grandmother who fed and cared for him. He could not presume the same for Take.  
"Whoa...!" Just as he expected, Tsuki stumbled back, tripping over his own missteps. Kakashi caught him by the hand and pulled him up, before he could fall to the base of the hill. "Hey that was fast… Thanks, Hokage-sama."  
"Mah… Don't mention it. Keep moving forward, and watch your step."  
When they made it to the road, Tsuki leaned over and clutched his knees. Kakashi, however, scoped their surroundings. It was a typical weeknight, with very few people roaming about the village. There remained only proprietors lighting their shops and older villagers heading towards the marketplace. Then there were those who remained invisible, like the Shinobi on active duty and those returning from missions. They flashed like dark shadows across the night sky.  
The head against his shoulder shifted, but its owner did not stir anymore than that.  
"In which direction do you live, Tsuki?" Kakashi asked.  
"That way." Tsuki pointed west. "No wait! That way." Tsuki pointed east.  
"Mm. I'll walk you halfway, if that's alright…"  
"Sure!"  
The two turned right, with Tsuki in the lead. Despite his haggard state, the redhead maintained a level of energy Kakashi could only recall seeing in one other individual. The boy practically skipped down the road while Kakashi kept to long strides, so not to disturb the boy on his back.  
"We're gonna turn left over here, Hokage-sama," Tsuki said. "I live close to the Hokage tower, ya know."  
"Maybe I'll see you around, sometime, when you're not at the Academy," Kakashi said, humoring the boy.  
In actuality, he was keeping his eye alert, as they roamed the streets. The jounin wanted to avoid running into villagers that might recognize him. He was pleased to find that Tsuki was taking them through the emptiest route. Perhaps the redhead was cleverer than he initially led on, Kakashi thought. Or perhaps he understood that, by living so close to the Hokage tower, the Rokudaime was bound to run into someone he knew…  
"Hey, is that…? Is that Iruka-sensei?" whispered Tsuki.  
Kakashi stopped in his tracks, stepping back and pulling Tsuki with him.  
"It is Iruka-sensei! I knew it wa– Mpmh!"  
"Shh."  
Kakashi hushed the boy, wrapping a gloved hand around his loud mouth.  
"I know. I saw."  
Kakashi peered beyond the bend, using the corner building to conceal Tsuki, Take, and himself.  
Upon further inspection, it really was Iruka. There was no mistaking that tan skin, turtleneck shirt, and brown ponytail. Kakashi began to observe from afar, pressing a curious Tsuki back with one hand. Iruka should have been heading home, by now, so what was he still doing in this area of the village?  
Iruka crossed the road from the other side of the block. That's when it became clear to Kakashi that he wasn't alone.  
No, the jounin realized, his eye narrowing in on the almond eyed, chin covered, face protected, seasonal Anbu jounin walking beside Iruka. It was Yamato… there was no mistaking, just as there was no mistaking the broad smile on Iruka's face as Yamato spoke to him. Then Iruka spoke back, words Kakashi could not decipher from this distance. He thought quickly of using his Sharingan, when Yamato leaned in close, close to Iruka's ear, and whispered something so apparently amusing that it caused the chunin to laugh.  
Iruka turned red.  
"H-Hokage-sama?"  
Then Yamato placed a hand on Iruka's shoulder.  
Iruka smiled.  
"Hokage-sama?" Tsuki hissed, looking down. He wasn't going to question it at first, but the redhead was growing nervous of the fingers stabbing him in the chest.  
Kakashi turned away from the sight before him, releasing Tsuki from his hold.  
"Tsuki."  
"Yeah?"  
"Can you manage from here?"  
"Yep."  
Kakashi looked to the beaming boy, smiling tightly.  
"You and I did not see Iruka-sensei tonight."  
"…Uh, right."  
"Then go, and get some rest. I expect the same amount of energy tomorrow."  
"Yes sir! I mean," Tsuki placed a finger over his lips. "Yes sir."  
He looked beyond the Hokage, to Take, and frowned.  
"Are you taking Take home then?" he asked.  
"Yes," Kakashi lied. "Don't worry. He's safe with me."  
"I know he is, sir." Tsuki nodded. "Wish me luck with Baa-chan!"  
Tsuki raced down the road, passing building after closed building until, eventually, disappearing when he turned on the next block.  
Kakashi watched him go, standing alone on that deserted intersection.  
Well, there was Take, he thought, fastening his hold on the still sleeping boy. Again, he crept away from the corner and glanced towards the other side of the block, only to find Yamato and Iruka gone, nowhere in sight.

"You've finally lost it, haven't you?" Pakkun grumbled.  
Kakashi ignored him.  
He was sitting on top of Iruka's coffee table, surrounded by his ninken. He was aware of their staring, their watching him with puzzled stares, but Kakashi paid them little mind. He busied himself with the front door, the clock on the wall that ticked in seconds, and the little boy stretched out on Iruka's couch.  
"So who is he?"Akino asked.  
They'd been hounding him with that question since he arrived. Kakashi scoffed to himself, remembering the mixture of amazement and fright on their faces, when he walked in through the door… Perhaps they were expecting someone else, like the chunin sensei that lived here. It wasn't as if he was incapable of using a door. He was trying to make a habit of it, too.  
"Did you find him, or somethin'?"  
"What's his name?"  
"Why is he so dirty?"  
"Hey," Pakkun muttered, pressing a paw against the boy's chest. The small pug sat on him and, even still, Take did not stir. "I know this kid." He looked to Kakashi. "He's the one that walked the walls that one time. Isn't that right, Kakashi?"  
Kakashi nodded.  
"Take," he said. "He's one of Iruka's students," he told his overly curious pack. Eight tails wagged eagerly, as seven of them joined Pakkun by the couch. Guruko jumped up, throwing his paws over one end of the couch, quickly accompanied by Urushi who did the same.  
"He looks beat," Guruko said, his whiskered face sullen.  
"Beat?" Urushi growled. "He looks beaten up! Kakashi, what the hell did ya do to this kid?"  
"Ne…" Kakashi frowned. "I didn't do anything to him. He did this to himself."  
Urushi glared at the man, skeptic. "What does that even mean?"  
"Hey boss, what are you gonna do when Iruka gets home?" Bull asked, his heavy brow turning upwards. Kakashi reached over, scratching the big burly dog behind the ears.  
"There's not much to do. Is there?" he replied.  
"I guess not," Bull shrugged.  
Bisuke paced the length of the couch, all the while sniffing at Take's clothes, and every time he reached Take's dangling hand, the small dog lapped it with his tongue. "So that's the smell we've been smellin'," he said, round eyes turning on the jounin. "This is who you've been spending time with. We were wonderin'."  
"He needs a bath," Shiba said, running his paw down his face. He sat next to Bull, keeping a respectful distance. "I can smell him from here," the gray dog grimaced.  
Uhei jumped up, in the same manner Guruko and Urushi had, sniffing at tuffs of Take's silver hair. His tail wagged eagerly as he balanced on his hind legs, roaming the boy's head with heavy breaths. "Let's wake him up," he said to Pakkun.  
Pakkun gave Kakashi a look. "What do ya think, Kakashi? Should we wake him?"  
Kakashi shook his head. "No. He needs the rest."  
Pakkun jumped down from off the couch, making sure not to dig his claws into Take's skin.  
"Alright, Kakashi," he sighed, jumping into the jounin's lap. "What's going on? You've never been very forthcoming, but you always kept us in the loop." He looked to his brothers, all of whom agreed. "You've been spending a lot of time with this runt, and we want to know why. We also want to know why he's beaten up, and why you brought him here."  
Kakashi's visible brow lifted and his eye grew wide, giving his interrogators some thought. All of them were staring at him now, waiting for an explanation.  
"I'm training him," he said, shrugging, but his ninken gave a collective gasp.  
"What?" Pakkun appeared most perplex of all. Then again, Kakashi recalled, Pakkun was the only one of them to know what Take was like awake. "Why are you training him, Kakashi?"  
Kakashi's eye fell on the boy, watching for a barely visible breathing pattern. He knew that, beneath the boy's baggy clothes, there lay nothing but skin and bones. Shiba was right, too: Take needed a bath. Perhaps most of the dirt covering his body had accumulated from their training sessions, like the small rocks that fell out of Take's sandals when Kakashi tossed them by the door. Then there was dirt that simply gravitated towards a boy Take's age, because young boys like him were almost always dirty.  
"Hey, answer my question!" Pakkun barked indignantly.  
"I'm training him because he has potential, Pakkun," Kakashi answered. "Do you not recall the power that emitted from his chakra? With my guidance, he has the opportunity to control his energy and put it to good use." He smiled at the pug. "Who knows?" he drawled. "He may graduate from the Academy early."  
"Kakashi…" Pakkun growled warningly, but he didn't get a chance to say what it was he wanted to say.  
The door cracking open, even if just a smidgeon of an inch, stopped him from voicing his opinions; stopped him from voicing the fact that he still remembered the last time Kakashi decided to take a young charge under his wing. That last time was not but a few years ago, when Team 7 was still a budding unit, when Kakashi believed he could groom a member of his team in the same way. Considering how that turned out, Pakkun couldn't help but think the troubled jounin was up to something he may end up regretting in the long run.  
When the door opened, everyone looked up.  
As for Pakkun, he thought it might be a good time to hide and so jumped from Kakashi's lap to beneath the coffee table. Nothing of this scenario could end well, and leave it to his idiotic owner to ruin a perfectly good evening by pulling a stunt like this.  
The smile on Iruka's face was one of ease, a smile Kakashi hadn't seen in some time, which was why it was such a shame to see it go so quickly.  
The grocery bag in Iruka's arm fell to the floor, followed by a shoulder bag, as he took in the sight before him. He stood, petrified, gaping at the eight dogs staring back at him with wide eyes, the jounin sitting cross-legged on his coffee table, and the little boy lying on his couch.  
"Ah, Iruka," Kakashi hummed pleasantly, offering the younger man a crinkle-eyed smile. "I'm sure you're surprised to see me."  
"What the…" Iruka stepped back, horrified. "Take!"  
Take's name was all he could utter, rushing forward without much thought for anything or anyone else. The ninken scattered, getting as far as possible from the sure to be wrathful man. Kakashi did the same, swerving and scooting off the other end of the table.  
"Take…" Iruka whispered, dropping to his knees. He hovered over the boy, frantically running his eyes over Take's exhausted form. "Take? Take, wake up." The chunin reached out, gently cupping Take's cheek.  
Kakashi walked over to the door, pushing it close. Then he reached down, gathering up Iruka's belongings, the packed paper bag, and the contents that rolled out of it. He pushed aside a loaf of bread to drop in a can of soybeans.  
"He's only sleeping," the jounin provided, tossing Iruka's workbag to the counter.  
From the severe, fiery glare that promised all things unkind and unpleasant Iruka shot his way, Kakashi figured he might have said something wrong.  
"What did you do to him?"  
"Eh?" Kakashi whined, with furrowed brow. "I didn't do anything." He was growing tired of being accused. Not that it seemed to matter; Iruka's attention had already returned to Take, as he pressed his hand against the boy's brow.  
"Hey, Iruka," Pakkun said in greeting, bravely stepping forward. His brethren, however, stayed put, huddled together beneath the mantle. "Kakashi was just telling us that he –"  
"I found Take, on my way here," Kakashi cut in smoothly, keeping his gaze on the chunin and away from Pakkun's lazy round glare. Still, the chunin's stare was not something to confront lightly. Kakashi steadied himself, brushing his hand through the sharp tendrils at the back of his head. "He must have gotten into quite a scuffle. Wouldn't you agree, Iruka?"  
"This is not funny, Kakashi!" Iruka hissed, pushing off the ground. He put his arm beneath Take's shoulders, lifting him.  
"What are you doing?" Kakashi asked.  
"I'm going to take him home," Iruka said sharply, placing his other arm beneath Take's knees.  
"Ma, don't do that." Iruka stopped, lowering Take back onto the couch. Take's eyelids fluttered, and a look of frustration surfaced on his brow. He remained fast asleep, however, no doubt troubled by a bad dream, Kakashi thought.  
"Why shouldn't I do that?" Iruka challenged slowly, narrowing his glare.  
"Because… he should stay and eat," Kakashi argued, looking to Take.  
He thought the boy was emaciated. Kakashi was a lean man, but that was due to his height and rapid metabolism, and whatever didn't show up in mass, he made up for in muscle. Take was but a nine-year-old boy, yes, but no boy should be the size that Take was.  
"I think a bit of food might do him some good."  
Iruka went back to kneeling beside the couch, worry etched into his face, and Kakashi couldn't blame or even taunt him for his concern. Had Kakashi not been with the boy for the last three hours, he too might have believed that Take had gotten into a fight. The few hits Tsuki managed to land on Take showed up in black and blue marks all over Take's chin and arms, but more convincing was the pain Take had put himself through, straining the very limits of his body.  
The look on Iruka's face clearly matched Kakashi's troubled thoughts. The chunin glided his fingers down Take's thin and dirty arm, and he knew then that even Iruka could see that his student was in an unhealthy state.  
"He needs to eat."  
"He needs to rest," Iruka chided, closing his eyes.  
"Ma, he can do both here. Wouldn't you agree, Iruka?"  
Iruka looked up at him, his eyes full of weary.  
"I guess so," the chunin sighed, wiping a smudge of dirt from Take's brow. "Food…right," he whispered, rising slowly. With one hand on his waist, he looked towards the ninken, rubbing the nape of his neck with the other hand. "What would you guys like to eat tonight?" he asked, his face void of all but a tired stare.  
"Oh," Pakkun chuckled nervously, speaking for his pack, "we'll eat whatever you choose to make us, Iruka. Right fellas?" The pack nodded their heads generously.  
"Of course!"  
"There's no complaint here!"  
"Anything you cook taste great, Iruka!"  
"Thanks," the chunin said, flushing red.  
Iruka headed towards the kitchen and, as the chunin approached, Kakashi's frown grew stronger. Iruka's easy-going smile had faded, forever eradicated from tonight. He walked with his head bowed, eyes lowered to the floor, averting his gaze from the jounin standing before him.  
"Iruka."  
"Yes, Kakashi?" Iruka asked, rubbing his temples, but he still wouldn't look up. He tried to pass him by, grabbing the groceries as he went, but Kakashi stopped him, taking hold of Iruka's arm. The jounin recalled that this was the same arm, the same shoulder, he had seen Yamato holding earlier, and his gentle grasp grew firmer. He pulled the distracted chunin closer.  
He had Iruka's attention now, even if the sadness in his warm eyes trumped his alertness.  
"Kakashi…"  
"Are you alright?"  
"I-I…" If he heard it, Kakashi would not accept 'I'm fine' as an answer, because it was obvious that Iruka wasn't. The frantic look he kept sending Take's direction was proof enough to the jounin that Iruka was more than distraught. "Someone has hurt my student. Of course I'm not alright." Iruka finally managed, pulling away.  
Iruka set the paper bag down, taking out the groceries and setting them on the counter beside it. Kakashi came into the kitchen as well, leaning up against the entrance. He was watching Iruka, his movements, but the chunin didn't seem to mind. He was too busy separating the canned goods from the vegetables, the vegetables from the bread, the bread from the dairy, and the dairy from the meat. Then he began to put everything away, taking the milk to the refrigerator.  
"How was your day?" Kakashi asked, an innocent enough query. Of course, Iruka didn't respond right away. He disappeared behind the fridge door and, when he came up again, the milk was gone. "I haven't seen you much, in the last few days. I'm starting to think you're upset about something."  
"Upset?" Iruka shut the fridge. "Apart from tonight, I've been…okay." Iruka reached for the meat.  
Kakashi opened one of the top cupboards and started shelving the cans. Iruka glanced back, eyeing the jounin thoughtfully, before returning to his own task.  
"Thanks," he muttered, putting the saury on the top shelf.  
"My pleasure, Iruka." Kakashi froze up with euphoria, turning over a tin of eggplant miso soup, already canned and ready to serve. He couldn't stop his elation, when he realized there were three cans of ready-to-boil eggplant miso soup. "Mm… Looks like you found some spare time after your shift, no?"  
"No, not really," Iruka said, reaching for the beef and putting it away, "but I thought it smart to stock up on a few things. So I took a trip to the marketplace."  
"…Alone?"  
Iruka's hand paused on the loaf of bread.  
"…Yes," the chunin replied, taking the bread and holding it with both hands. "I, uh, it's only a few items. I thought I could carry everything myself," he smiled loosely, grabbing the small, plastic bags of mushrooms, sprouts, onions, and radishes, making one trip.  
Kakashi looked away, frowning.  
"That's a shame," he muttered. "…I would have gone with you."  
Iruka nudged the fridge door. It closed with a soft 'thud'.  
"Yes, well…" Iruka scratched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe next time. In any case," Iruka reached up, opening another cupboard, "you wouldn't have been able to join me. You're supposed to be at the office, Kakashi, and to answer your first question: yes, I am surprised to see you. You should be at work."  
"Maa…I've got a few temps covering for me," the jounin shrugged.  
"I bet," Iruka scoffed, shaking his head. He reached out with his other arm as well, and the sound of clanking and clattering grew. "I hope you know you shouldn't abuse your authority, no matter who ends up working for you. You owe Izumo and Kotetsu a huge raise."  
"I'll keep that in mind," Kakashi drawled, throwing the suggestion to the very back of his mind, "but I'm more concerned for your financial situation than theirs."  
"I'm good right now. Really, there's nothing to worry about," Iruka insisted, his voice straining. Kakashi tilted his head, looking up and down, and chuckled to himself. Iruka was standing on the balls of his feet, trying to reach whatever he was looking for. Everything, from the strong arch of Iruka's back to his frustrated lip-biting amused Kakashi.  
"Maa…would you like some help, Iruka?" he grinned.  
"No, I… I almost got it." He was nowhere near getting it. Kakashi approached. "Damn it…"  
"What are you looking for?"  
"I'm, ah, I'm looking for the bigger pot. Not the big big one, but the middle one? You know, the one a little bigger than the small one– anyway, I want to make some soup, for Take. With a bit of beef, I can make some stew too. I just can't find the damn thing…" Kakashi didn't think Iruka was going to find it, at this rate. He recalled using it last, washing it, and placing it at the back of the shelf, behind a few stacks of tupperware.  
Kakashi stepped forward, hanging one arm loosely from his pocket. With the other, he reached up to help search the cupboard. However, he missed; or, more accurately, his hand met the warm skin of another hand.  
Iruka froze, his free hand falling to his side.  
His fingers were a little coarse. It was chalk residue, Kakashi knew. He didn't need to see Iruka's hand to know what it felt like, its softer, richer texture. He stepped forward, just a few inches more, gazing down into those eyes that pierced him with so much emotion. He reached down, gliding his fingers down Iruka's hand, individually wrapping each one around the chunin's wrist. The expression on Iruka's face, once the epitome of frustration and determination, was now riddled with a fear Kakashi still couldn't place on any battlefield. Kakashi was not afraid, but his heart raced, much like the frantic pulse beneath his fingertips.  
He leaned forward a bit more, until he could see the faint dark freckles adorning Iruka's cheeks and the bridge of his scarred nose. With one eye, he discerned its jagged edges, proving that the scar was not much of a clean line but had melded seamlessly into the chunin's skin. Then he looked into those rich, brown eyes, those lukewarm but often fiery eyes, worn down with years of use. They looked tired too, slightly sunken in, if one cared to look hard enough. Well, the jounin was looking very hard, now, not knowing what else he could do but drown in those eyes.  
Iruka's blush was fierce, as it always was, but in a manner different than ever before to the jounin, and as he searched Iruka's face, his eyes, for understanding, he realized that the warmth he'd grown so accustom to had yet to pull away.  
"Hnn-hn…"  
Iruka jerked his hand away, hitting a few other dishes in the process. He knocked over a glass bowl, one Kakashi caught before it fell on the chunin's head.  
"Thanks," Iruka shuddered, smiling weakling, but his condition troubled Kakashi. Iruka sounded as though he'd just taken on Gai in one of his thousand-mile-run challenges, but he'd been here the whole time, standing with him.  
"My pleasure, Iruka," he said, his tone low and heated. He too did not sound like himself.  
Iruka looked beyond the gap between the cupboards and the sink, to the little boy stirring noisily in his sleep. He then glanced back, looking to Kakashi with anxious eyes.  
Kakashi continued his search, though his eye remained fixed on Iruka. He eventually pulled a pot from the cupboard, slowly, revealing the medium-size one Iruka so greatly desired.  
"I think I'll make tonight's dinner, Iruka," he hummed. "After all, you bought all the ingredients I need. It's only fair."  
Iruka's frown was fighting the growing smile across his lips, his eyes searching Kakashi.  
"Take care of Take," Kakashi said, not needing to hear from Iruka again to know that the chunin was more than grateful.  
Iruka raced from the kitchen and Kakashi watched him, hanging back against the entrance. The steel pot dangled loosely in his grip. Take was finally coming to, judging from his constant shifting. The jounin stepped back into the kitchen, turning on the faucet and filling the pot an inch high with water. Then he flicked one of the burners and opened the fridge, pulling out a few fresh ingredients.  
"Take?" Iruka whispered, so not to disturb the waking boy. He checked the boy's forehead again, pressing the back of his hand against its warm surface, and mentally berated himself for not following his first suspicions. "He's has a fever," he said aloud.  
"A fever?" Kakashi stood from the fridge, mushrooms in hand.  
"Yes," Iruka confirmed, brushing a few strands of hair back from Take's sweaty brow. "Uhei."  
"Uh, yes?" Uhei sauntered forward, shocked, but all the ninken looked surprised and uncomfortable for some reason. Iruka reckoned they were well beyond starving by now, since he forgot to come by and refill their bowls this afternoon. He'd have to make it up to them, and hopefully the ninken treats he bought the other day would suffice.  
"Uhei, would you mind pulling a few blankets from the hallway? There on the bottom shelf, so you shouldn't have to strain too far."  
"No problem."  
"The rest of you, if you wouldn't mind starting a warm bath, and there's an extra face towel on the rack beside the tub. Put it under a cold tap and bring it here, please?"  
The ninken went to work, each of them eager to assist in some way.  
Iruka returned his attention to Take, holding the boy's head in his hand. "Take, are you awake?"  
"Hn-hnn," Take mumbled, turning back and forth. His eyelids opened and shuddered close, hazel orbs working to adapt themselves to the warm, golden glow of Iruka's living room. "Wh-where…?" Take swallowed hard, struggling to speak. "Where, am…"  
"It's me, Iruka-sensei," Iruka said, nudging Take's shoulder. "It's Iruka, and you're here, with me, at my home."  
Take blinked, slowly, everything around him coming into focus: the back of a dark velvet couch, a desk, a window, some strange creatures running about, and Iruka's hazy-looking face. "…Iruka?"  
"Yep," Iruka nodded, relieved.  
"…I'm at your place?" Take asked, gazing around feebly.  
"Yes," Iruka said again, frowning. "Take."  
"Ung."  
"You have a fever," he said, stroking the boy's cheek with the back of his fingers, feeling the same sticky heat all over. "You were a bit sluggish in school today. This was why, wasn't it?"  
"Hn," Take replied, although he was perfectly coherent.  
"Take," Iruka sighed, shaking his head. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't she stop you from coming to school?"  
Kakashi stopped in mid-slice, looking up from the cutting board. He'd been listening in on their barely coherent conversation and could have sworn he'd heard a distinct 'she' escape Iruka's lips. Who was she, and what was she to Take? More importantly, who was she to Iruka?"  
"Sh-she…I told her, and she didn't care. She doesn't care about me and you know it, I-Iruka," the little boy whimpered.  
"Okay. That's enough now…" Iruka brushed his hand down Take's cheek, lulling his eyes to close, and hazel eyes disappeared behind twitching eyelids. In seconds, Take was back to sleeping, unaware of the cool, damp towel being brought in and placed on his forehead.  
Iruka took a seat by the couch, unmoving, his eyes never wandering far from Take's troubled face. The ninken sat around him, trying their hardest to reserve their questions for a more appropriate time.


	4. Chapters 19-24

Chapter Nineteen  
"What's your position?"  
"No change here. What's it like on your end?"  
The Anbu leaned to the side, gaining a clear view into the Hokage offices.  
"Eh…Not much," he said, sitting back. A few high-rise buildings and a perimeter of 140 meters distanced Hatake-sama and the Anbu team assigned to shadow him. They monitored him, idle in their task.  
This particular Anbu, known for the weasel-like characteristics of his mask, sat stretched out on a sturdy branch. He peered through the tree's thick patches of leaves, as he often did, making sure to keep watch of Kakashi-sama's every movement.  
"Doesn't look like he's trying to lose us, anytime soon," he relayed to a teammate distantly positioned on a nearby rooftop. Other teammates stood generously scattered about the perimeter, also under cover.  
They bided their time, adhering to the Hokage's daily routine, all the while listening to the casual talk that transmitted through their communiqué earpieces.  
"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Badger. The morning is young. He'll find some reason to move out."  
"Hai, hai…like a trip to Iruka-sensei's class, ne?"  
"Come mid-morning, most likely."  
"Heh. I guess the rumors are true then."  
"Was there ever a doubt in your mind? Look at the evidence. But they aren't entirely accurate, are they?"  
"What, the rumors? How do you mean?"  
"Doesn't look very one-sided, in my opinion…"  
"Well, no one is asking for your opinion."The Anbu balked, pressing his fingers against his earpiece. The member known as Badger immediately identified the voice, having had to deal with its constant harassment for days now.  
"Mitarashi-san?" There was no response, but as soon as Badger said the name, the other members heaved great sighs and irritated groans. Below their grumbles resided a rhythmic snicker. "Damn it, Mitarashi-san…"  
"Ladies and gentlemen, instead of gossiping about your directive's personal life, why not stick to the task at hand? You're Anbu for goodness sake. Show some restraint."  
"For the last time, Mitarashi-san: stay off our frequency!"  
Anko looked to her headset and sniffed. Nothing brightened her day better than meddling in Anbu affairs. Most of them thought so highly of themselves, as though every other operative division was somehow inferior. To think she once considered a career path in the Anbu ranks, until she came to her senses and opted against it.  
After one fleeting look down to the ground below, Anko picked up her handheld transceiver and smirked.  
'Click…'  
"…Why don't you come over here and make me."  
The tokubetsu jounin eagerly awaited the backlash. Anko turned and gave Badger a wave, knowing that if she could see him he could definitely see her. Where she sat, in a tree just southeast of the Hokage's office, was no distance away from Badger's position in a tree to the north.  
"Mitarashi, get off our frequency, or I'll report you to the Board."  
Anko pressed to speak again, lifting the transceiver to her lips.  
"Idle threats," she yawned, crossing her arms and turning away.  
"Idle? Idle!" Badger hissed, keeping his voice low so to avoid further detection. It no doubt annoyed him to no end, knowing that she had discovered his position. "I'll have you written up so fast, you won't know what hit you, you annoying little bi–"  
"Uh oh… Crap."  
"What?"  
There was commotion over com', and it caused Anko to stare skeptically at her headset. She looked up again, to see what Badger was up to, and found that the Anbu had already switched to an alternate position. She then glared at the speaker, distrusting the static silence. She didn't know whether they'd switched to hand signals or were now communicating on another frequency. To be sure, she flicked through frequencies, scowling when she wound up on the same one.  
"…That was fast."  
Finally, Anko thought, self-satisfied.  
"No kidding. Should we say something?"  
"Nah. She deserves everything she gets," Badger chuckled.  
"Eh?" Anko's face screwed up in alarm.  
'Click…'  
"Deserves what? Who's the 'she'?"  
"Hello, Anko-san."  
"Ack!" Anko clutched the transceiver to her chest and jumped to her feet. Hatake Kakashi's head suddenly appeared from amongst the leaves, his silver tuffs of hair dangling in the air. "You've got a lot of nerve, Hatake Kakashi!" she huffed, watching him drop down beside her.  
"…Me?" The elite jounin drawled, rising. Kakashi looked to the walkie-talkie in Anko's hand. She yanked the headpiece from her ear and quickly pocketed the two devices. She then offered the Rokudaime a cheeky grin and a chuckle, before clearing her throat.  
"Yes, well…" She straightened up. "What do you want, Kakashi-san?"  
"I want to talk to you," Kakashi replied, burying his hands into his pockets.  
Anko watched him approach, frowning.  
"First thing's first!" she exclaimed brightly, "and riddle me this, oh mischievous one: If you're standing here, who the hell is that?"  
She pointed towards the shadowy figure slouched in the Hokage's chair.  
Kakashi looked to it, his shoulders hunching. "That…is a double."  
"A double?" Anko repeated, incredulously, crossing her arms and pinching her brow. "How many doubles do you have?"  
"I've lost count," he shrugged, "but they do come in handy."  
"I bet they do. Knowing you…" Anko's voice stopped short, and she eyed the Hokage suspiciously. She couldn't help but think back to that scarecrow replica of the Rokudaime her team recovered from the fields, a week back. That, too, was a double of sorts, since it was draped in the garbs of the sixth Hokage.  
Her shifty-eyed stare then grew quizzical, looking Kakashi up and down. Now that she really gave it thought, it would seem that the Hokage hadn't made any plans to replace the clothes that were stolen and burned. In fact, she thought miserably, he seemed very pleased with them gone.  
"That double in your office…wouldn't happen to be stuffed with straw, now would it?"  
"Ne…" Kakashi rubbed the nape of his neck.  
"You…didn't!" she hissed, pointing an accusing finger. "Tell me my men aren't all riled up for nothing!"  
"Mitarashi-san." Kakashi's cheerful drawl vanished.  
Anko gulped, refusing to meet the jounin's stern, silver stare.  
"Staring isn't gonna get you very far, Kakashi-san," she chuckled, her voice shaking with uneasiness.  
"Anko-san…" Kakashi paused, approaching slowly. "…what did you mean, when you said Iruka-sensei had feelings for me?"  
Anko froze, taken aback.  
"No," she managed to say, shaking her head. "No, no, no." She managed three more 'No's.  
"Is there a problem, Anko-san?"  
"No problem," Anko replied, tightly, "because I'm not getting in the middle of this."  
Anko jumped down from the tree and strutted away, but she knew Hatake Kakashi would only follow her. He did, as she expected, his every step a daunting thud to her ears.  
"No means no, Kakashi-san," she sighed, holding her head high. "You'd think you'd have learned that by now, with all the time you spend with him." Anko couldn't help but smirk.  
"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Kakashi hummed. "However, 'no' is not an answer or an option, Anko-san."  
"Oh?" Anko snorted, raising her brow.  
"No… Because I have questions, and you seem to have a sufficient answer for all of them," Kakashi stated thinly.  
"What makes you say that?" she groaned, eyeing the road ahead. There were plenty of other Shinobi out this morning, running around the grounds, heading to their stations… Going to work. Anko glanced back, to the Hokage tower, and then to the man following behind her, and she grimaced.  
The Infamous Copy Nin showed an unmatched flair for avoiding his duties.  
Any excuse would do, apparently.  
"You had more than enough answers for Iruka-sensei," Kakashi added, looking to the sky.  
Anko stopped to stare at the Hokage, thoughtfully this time, noting how the overcast made him look paler than usual. "Do you really still call him Iruka-sensei?"  
"That's his name," Kakashi replied.  
"That's not what I asked you," Anko said, shaking her head. "How do you expect me to answer your questions if you can't even answer one of mine?"  
She waited, expectantly.  
"…I call him Iruka now."  
Anko's smirk grew.  
"Just Iruka?"  
"…That's his name."  
She couldn't agree more.  
They walked on in momentary silence. Anko felt a prickly feeling at the nape of her neck, as if Kakashi hadn't stopped staring at her with that piercing gaze of his; the one waiting for her to cave in and divulge anything and everything she possibly could.  
'It's not going to work,' was her mental mantra. It was bad enough that the jounin had obviously heard her conversation with Iruka.  
"I'm not surprised," Anko mumbled, rolling her eyes. She practically shouted out the particulars, true, but for Iruka; not for the insufferable prat following her, and she refused to turn around and use that same knowledge to satiate Kakashi's obvious curiosity.  
With a deep breath she turned and stopped, addressing that expected gleam in Kakashi's half-lidded eye.  
Kakashi looked surprised, but Anko doubted that he was.  
"What was that, Anko-san?"  
"Kakashi-san," she huffed, "you think I can answer your questions, but really I can't. For once, in my life, I'm keeping my trap shut."  
"Ma…I commend you, for your effort, but it won't last."  
"Oh, really?"  
"You're unwilling to talk, but that doesn't make you unable to or even capable to resist asking my questions. Like the other day," Kakashi said merrily, his droning voice a torment to Anko's ears, "when you answered questions that were never asked to begin with."  
"That was different," she said, avoiding that daunting, one-eyed gaze at all cost. "I was giving a pep-talk, of sorts."  
"I wasn't aware the two of you were friends."  
"Is that a question or a statement?" Anko scoffed, shaking her head. "I took an interest in him, after the Chunin exams."  
"You don't say?" Kakashi hummed.  
"Don't make a big deal of it," Anko growled. "I just thought he was…different. You know no one really wants to proctor for the Exams. Most of us couldn't be bothered, so when some no-name chunin sensei storms into my office and begs; no, demands that he notify a team, I'm always gonna be stumped. I thought he was a joke, to be honest…"  
"…Iruka is not a joke."  
Anko stared at Kakashi, captivated by the defensiveness in the man's brow.  
"You're right," she uttered, unnerved. "He's not a joke, Kakashi-san, but I didn't know that back then," she continued. "After that, I thought to investigate, stalk him, and let's just say I didn't have to follow you to know where he lived. I had made him my new pet-project long before you even showed up."  
"I hate to think of what your previous pet-projects were."  
"They were nothing like Iruka-sensei…that's for damn sure," Anko grumbled. "It may be hard to believe, but that man is more like me than even he would be willing to admit."  
"I do find that hard to believe."  
"Ya see?"  
Anko and Kakashi passed by the hospital, where the traffic was comparatively slower. A few medic-nin stood by the front gate, no doubt on their breaks, staring back at Anko and the more than recognizable man walking their way. Anko despised the unwanted attention, but the jounin walking beside her seemed unfazed by the gawking stares.  
"I see you've grown used to all the staring. I bet if you wore your robes more often, you'd get a lot more looks," she winked.  
Kakashi said nothing, and the two fell into another bout of silence. Eventually, the stares of hospital workers disappeared; the stigma of sick, injured, and dying patients faded away, and Anko remained determined, with her eyes fixed on the road ahead, to keep her thoughts to herself. Both jounin and tokubetsu jounin cleared the block, where the Hokage broached the very subject Anko was trying very hard to not even think about, let alone talk about.  
"Consider this a meeting of sorts…" Kakashi turned on her, stopping her in her tracks. "This is a meeting similar to your meeting with Iruka-sensei, where plenty of information was disclosed."  
"Back to Iruka-sensei already, are we?"  
"Anko-san…"  
"Alright! Yeesh!" Anko growled, gritting her teeth, and she snapped at him, "What the hell do you want from me, Kakashi-san?"  
"Maa, answers…I want to know what you think. That's all," he shrugged.  
"Oh… You want to know what I think?" She mocked, looking the taller man up and down. "Believe me, Kakashi-san: you don't want to know what I think."  
"Ne…I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."  
"You didn't ask."  
"I'm asking now, then."  
"What is this to you, anyway?" she asked.  
"Mm?" Kakashi's brow arched and confusion settled on his face, but Anko wouldn't buy it. There was no one more clever, more complex and mysterious, and yet less sincere than the notorious Copy Nin standing before her.  
"Please…like you don't know what I'm talking about. Are you asking me because you really want to know, or are you asking me out of some need to know everything? Pestering me because you're serious about this or because this beats doing work? Are you looking for some amusement, is that it? After all, anyone that's ever seen you turn in a report knows how much you enjoy tormenting the guy. But this isn't a game, Kakashi-san, and you shouldn't treat it as such—"  
Kakashi reached out, clasping Anko's shoulder with a tight grip.  
"I know it's not a game," the jounin said sternly. He let go, slowly. Anko looked down, to where the pressure of Kakashi's fingers had left an imprint on her trench coat. "Tell me, Anko-san. I would really like to know."  
The tokubetsu jounin stared at Kakashi, hesitant to go on. She searched his face, looking for certainty and finding that task impossible. There was no reading beyond Hatake Kakashi's cool façade. There was just a blank, bored expression. There was sternness, no doubt, but all other hints of emotion remained hidden, and she doubted Kakashi even needed a mask to hide them well.  
Still, if she was to go on, she had to put her faith in something.  
"Fine," she sighed, at last, her shoulders sinking. "Fine," she huffed again, holding her head. "Here I go again, making promises I know I can't possiblykeep…" Anko glared at Kakashi, annoyed. "You really want to know what I think."  
"Do tell."  
"I think…" Anko crossed her arms and looked away. "I think that you and Iruka-sensei…" She looked back again, scowling. "Well, isn't it obvious?"  
"If it were obvious, Anko-san, I wouldn't have asked you."  
"To put it simply," she hissed through gritted teeth. "I mean, it's become second nature to you… the way you act around one another, to the point where it hasn't even occurred to you… Oh, for the love of— you're freakin' attracted to one another!" she finally barked, throwing her hands into the air. "There! Is that not plain enough for you?"  
Kakashi's eye went wide.  
"Oh."  
"Yeah… oh." Anko rolled her eyes. "I didn't have to spell it out for Iruka-sensei," she huffed, crossing her arms, "but he's such a prude, it's fun to watch him turn red. Did you get that, Hokage-sama?" Anko sauntered forward, her index finger swirling in mid-air. She stared him dead center, square in his masked face. "You want him bad. You can deny it, and I'll be the first person to throw down the proof. You I know heard what I told Iruka: I've followed the two of you, and you're absolutely inseparable. Your gaze never travels very far, when you're with him, and you hover over him, like the obliviously love-sick pup you are."  
Anko ran out of breath, so she stopped to take one. Unbeknownst to her, she had grown giddy, advancing on the increasingly discomforted Rokudaime with a broad and creepy grin. She approached, licking her lips, pleased by the bead of sweat on Kakashi's brow.  
"I almost forgot the hospital is equipped with a psyche ward," Kakashi chuckled pleasantly, backing away.  
"What's wrong, Kakashi-san?" Anko asked innocently. "I thought you wanted to know what I thought. Too much for you, I guess," she teased.  
"No…That's what I thought you meant," Kakashi remarked just as pleasantly, stroking his chin.  
Anko stared at him, eyes filled with fury.  
"Ma, is there something wrong, Anko-san?"  
"Something wrong?" she growled. "If you knew that's what I meant, then why did you drag it out of me? Why are you pestering me?"  
"Ma, I believe it is you who has been pestering me, Anko-san," Kakashi answered dryly. Anko eyed the man angrily, but as he bounced on the balls of his feet, she couldn't help but let that anger fade. "Consider this payback, for spying on our affairs. Besides, I believe I said that's what I thought you meant. There was no guarantee."  
"Well, whatever…" Anko coughed, backing away. "Even you can't be so incredibly thick. I'd hate to call you my leader and that be the case…"  
"Iruka-sensei."  
Anko groaned, slapping a hand over her face. "He's going to kill me…"  
"Mm, most certainly."  
She glared at Kakashi, with unbridled malaise and misery. "Gee. Thanks."  
"Don't mention it," he said coolly. "I wouldn't worry too much, Anko-san." Kakashi stepped closer, offering the woman an encouraging smile. "Iruka-sensei is a very forgiving person." He looked to the sky. "There have been times when I too have overstepped my boundaries. I know that now."  
"What are you smiling at?" Anko scowled, mentally keeping note of the sudden warmth in the jounin's tone. She was absolutely stumped by how this man could go so long without knowing how unbelievably smitten he was over the chunin sensei. "Seriously, does destroying an already dysfunctional friendship amuse you so much?"  
"Ma…I am amused, but not for the reason you speak of," Kakashi began. He stepped back, pressing himself against the high fence that surrounded the hospital. He looked to Anko, a laidback expression naturally gracing his features. She frowned.  
It wasn't fair, Anko believed, for someone as maladjusted as Hatake Kakashi to be so alluring, appealing, and…cool looking. Gai-sensei's sonnets of youth manifested in the glory that was his 'Eternal Rival' did very little justice, to Anko's disdain. Kakashi pressed his back against the fence, crossed his legs, and shrugged his hands into the depths of his pockets, and he was an instant catch. Not even her constant staring seemed to disturb him.  
"You seem to be taking this well."  
"Was I suppose to take it differently?" Kakashi frowned, his eye scanning the open grounds. "Is that what Iruka-sensei believes? He has been avoiding me, if you hadn't noticed."  
"Of course," Anko lied. In actuality, she hadn't noticed at all. When she wasn't tracking Kakashi (or trying to), she was taking care of other official duties. Granted, she'd already learned, some years ago, just how evasive Iruka could be. Anko dare say that he was even shiftier than Kakashi, with unpredictability and unexpectedness being his greatest strengths. "Is that why you're smiling, because he's avoiding you?" Anko gave Kakashi a funny look but joined him against the fence. "That's hardly amusing, Kakashi-san."  
"Ma," he drawled, looking to her. "I guess you're right. Iruka-sensei avoiding me is not very amusing. However, you taking me for a simpleton is pretty funny. Ne, Anko-san?" he hummed. Anko grimaced, feeling the weight of her body sink just a few inches. "I didn't make chunin at age six or Anbu at fourteen because I'm slow or 'thick', as you so delicately put it…"  
"I get it, I get," Anko whined, tapping her head against the fence. "You're not an idiot."  
"I'm not a fool."  
"I told Iruka-sensei you were bound to notice something, but I didn't think how much." Anko cursed, berating herself, and she looked to Kakashi, frowning. "I should have come to you first."  
"Perhaps."  
"Why didn't you say anything?"  
Kakashi went quiet, temporarily closed off from the tokubetsu jounin. The significance of this moment was not lost to Anko, who had always known the jounin beside her as a social recluse. Kakashi rarely interacted with others, unless he absolutely had to. It had always been that way. So when he finally decided to show some real interest in someone, how could a tracker such as she not notice the change?  
Perhaps the significance was not lost on Kakashi, either. He wasn't an idiot, after all, and Anko was foolish for ever thinking that he was.  
Whenever in doubt, though, she could always look back on this midday, to the deep contemplation adorning Kakashi's brow. Anko didn't know what Kakashi was thinking, and she didn't think she wanted to know. But these thoughts, whatever they were, caused his jaw to grow tense and his face to morph into solid stone. He might as well have been a statue, as far as she was concerned. Anko watched the lump in Kakashi's throat bob every so often, a good indicator as any that he was, indeed, a living, breathing human being.  
"I've come to know Iruka-sensei as my friend, Anko-san," Kakashi murmured, "and he's a good friend, a real friend. Real friends are difficult to keep."  
Kakashi pushed off the fence and walked away, leaving Anko to stand in astonishment.  
"Pleasant meeting as always, Anko-san," the Rokudaime breathed over his back.  
"Hey," Anko bolted from the fence, her body moving faster than her mind or mouth could readily manage. "Where d-do you think you're going?"  
Kakashi raised one gloved hand from his pocket but didn't turn back.  
"I have other business to attend to at this time."  
"Pfft, as if!" she sneered, stepping forward. "Couldn't even care to properly dismiss me, could you?"  
"Maa…You're dismissed."  
"Not so fast, Kakashi-sama," she called out.  
Kakashi stopped in his tracks, and Anko stared at the back of his head with some strange sense of satisfaction. She couldn't really explain why she couldn't let him leave just yet. She was stalling him, for time, but from what she couldn't say. Anko did know one thing for certain, however, and that was the fact that Hatake Kakashi never attended to business at the drop of a hitai-ate. Not if he could help it.  
"Since you're here," Anko began boldly, "we should discuss a matter that's important to the safety of this village; some unfinished business, if you will."  
Kakashi turned and approached her, his head hanging low. His pensive stare was no more, and all traces of consternation had forever disappeared from his silver brow.  
"Your men," he said.  
"Yes," Anko nodded, her voice growing soft. "My men. They obeyed your orders. You told us to wait and, with the exception of reconnaissance, we have yet to respond to the threat our subject in question poses on Konohagakure."  
Kakashi stepped closer, until he could no doubt smell the sweet scent of maple sugar lingering on her clothes. Anko absolutely loved that smell. Apart from coating the delectably syrupy substance on her favorite treat, the scent itself made for a great fragrance. That's why she must have imagined the short-lived scowl flashing across the visible part of Kakashi's face. After all, who didn't like the smell of sweets?  
"What's our next plan of action?" she asked.  
Kakashi didn't miss a beat, keeping his voice low and his head even lower. If there was anyone in Konoha who knew the importance of discretion, it would be the Hokage.  
"Have four-man cells stationed at every checkpoint surrounding Konoha. I want a squad of twenty positioned on the outskirts: east, west, and south. That's five for every vulnerable direction, so designate the fourth squad as a back-up team."  
"S-sure," Anko blinked, taken by the speed of the Hokage's plan.  
To think she believed the jerk had forgotten all about the threat of Yakushi Kabuto…of course, he hadn't. Again, Anko mentally berated herself. From this day forward, she swore never to underestimate the cocky bastard ever again.  
"My teams have gathered intel, Kakashi-san. From this information, we've gained fairly dependable knowledge of where the enemy's been hiding, as well as any potential resting spots and decoy camps."  
"Good," Kakashi said firmly. "I want every possibility supervised, from here on end. Until I give an order saying otherwise, teams of three will surveillance each one."  
"Yes, sir."  
"Have two medic teams assembled, as well. When the time comes, they will be deployed in whatever way is deemed necessary."  
"Got it." Anko mentally made a note of it. Then a fleeting thought occurred to her. What would they tell these potential teams, who did not yet know the weight of their impending assignment? "Questions will be asked, Kakashi-san."  
"When the time comes…let them wonder," he remarked, looking away. "Team captains should address this as a drill or some unusual changes in security protocol, but under no circumstance is the purpose of this mission to be known by anyone other than the department leads of security and interrogation. I expect you and Ibiki-san to head the operation."  
"Yes, sir." Anko gave a curt bow. She straightened up, only to find both of Kakashi's hands visible, in a familiar hand seal formation. "Not so fast!" Anko quickly pulled his fingers apart.  
"Really?" Kakashi frowned, his half-lidded eye drooping. "Maa… Must I always properly dismiss you?"  
"Don't pull that disappearing act bull crap on me, Hatake Kakashi! I want to know where you're going!" she snapped, her right foot tapping angrily.  
"Ma, I believe I already told you," Kakashi said, glancing away. "I have other business to attend to. Don't follow me, or the impending consequences will be dire." He turned to leave again but, this time, Anko pinched the sleeve of his shirt between her thumb and forefinger. Kakashi sprung back, staring at the offending fingers with annoyance. He mumbled warningly, "Anko-san…"  
"Kakashi… wait." Anko let him go, after she was certain that he wouldn't pull a runner. To her relief, he didn't try to leave. Not that it would have been very difficult to track him down. She had a good idea of where he was heading. "Hear me out, for a second at least."  
"I'm listening," Kakashi replied.  
"It's about Iruka-sensei," she started slowly.  
"Ne…I won't tell him what you've told me, if that's your concern. You'll continue to follow me, I'll continue to evade you, and we'll act as though we never even spo—"  
"I lied."  
The look on Kakashi's face was, as always, indiscernible, but the tokubetsu jounin sensed an air of anxiety overcoming him. It was only a few minutes ago that the outspoken jounin was functioning on auto-pilot, rifling through a series of operative positions like a list of grocery items, but now his lingering presence had grown weighted, and his eye bore into her more daringly.  
"What about," he said in a tone Anko didn't like all that much.  
"I didn't lie to you," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I lied to him. I told him," she paused, a short laugh escaping her throat. She looked to Kakashi, chuckling. "I told him it was my duty to involve myself in this; to know the truth, for the safety of this village. I actually told him that. Crazy, right?"  
Kakashi offered her a puzzled stare.  
Anko sighed, "I guess I'm just under this impression that, were something to go wrong between the two of you, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself," she laughed.  
"I'm sure it was a valid concern, at the time," Kakashi said steadily, eyeing the shorter woman with newfound uncertainty. "I assure you that's not the case, Anko-san. I am an experienced jounin and the leader of this village. I've never found it difficult to separate my duty to Konoha with my personal life. Personal woes will never cripple me."  
"That's not true, and you know it," Anko sneered.  
"Anko-san—"  
"You said Iruka-sensei was a forgiving person, but you also said that there were times when you've overstepped your boundaries. What did that feel like? When you crossed the line and caused him pain and, without even knowing that he had, he found a way to get back at you…what was the result of that? How did that make you feel?"  
There it was, darkening Kakashi's features, and there was no mistaking the look of fear in the eyes of a soldier—the eye of a soldier, in this case. It was fleeting, Anko knew, but a ruthless emotion that's strength came only from its ability to weaken the spirit. The tokubetsu jounin was no stranger to that weakness and knew well its everlasting effects.  
"I get it: you lose him and you lose your friend, and that's a scary thought. If you step forward and commit yourself to this, it's even more devastating."  
"I can handle this."  
"No disrespect, Kakashi-san, but I don't think you can," she said. "I don't think Iruka-sensei could either, but I lied. I told him that I needed to know the truth to protect you and the wellbeing of this village, but it's him I'm really trying to protect."  
"That's very altruistic of you."  
"I'm serious, Kakashi-san." Anko moved closer, a prominent frown on her face. "This isn't some scene ripped from the pages of an Icha Icha… It's easier to think hypothetically of a reality you've kept at arm's length for years."  
"I'm not—"  
"I know," Anko groaned, "you're not an ignoramus. That makes it even more inexcusable, how blurred the lines are between you two. I refuse to stand by and watch you take for granted a chance that our kind is rarely afforded."  
Anko exhaled a deep breath.  
"Ma, are you by any chance finished?" Kakashi asked in a bored tone.  
Anko glared at him.  
"One more thing," she growled, "and this is very important, so pay attention." Anko cautioned the man with a pointed finger. "If you make this step, Kakashi-san, you have to be willing to commit to this…to him. Something like this doesn't just happen. This has been going on for longer than you know, so don't fuck it up…" Anko stepped away, giving the Hokage space to take in her words. She'd now seen the jounin's mind at work, the tensing of his jaw and his stone-like features. More overwhelming than anything was his never tiring stare, still boring into her in that intimidating way. "Damn you, Kakashi-san… I'm trying to help you."  
"…Your assistance is much appreciated." Kakashi finally blinked, his eye revealing to Anko the vaguest expression of gratitude. "I'm going to leave now. Do you mind?"  
"To visit Iruka-sensei," she said.  
"…" Kakashi's nod was subtle.  
"Good luck." Anko attempted to smile, but the nervousness she felt over the situation had her praying the Hokage wouldn't mess things up too much.  
"Inform Ibiki-san of the operation, assemble the teams, but do not follow me." The jounin clasped his hands together, his half-lidded eye offering one last glance. "That's an order." Anko watched the smoke and swirling leaves of the shunshin no jutsu, until its user disappeared from sight.  
"You're welcome!" she shouted out, even though she knew Kakashi was already long gone and nowhere within earshot.  
In that moment, two workers just had to pass by. They shot her looks of bemusement as they went. That's just what Anko needed, she thought bitterly: people thinking she was a loony, gibbering to herself.  
"Damn, stupid, jounin bastard," she grumbled, sulking away. "Can't even properly thank a person…"  
Chapter Twenty  
"I think he's wakin'…"  
"Don't be ridiculous. His eyes are still closed."  
"But his breathing's changed. Can't you tell?"  
"What kind of ninken can't tell something like that?"  
"Shuddap. It's too damn early to detect something like that."  
"Sure it is, Urushi."  
"Well, you all got your paws on him—trying to suffocate him, or something?"  
"Shh…He's waking!"  
Take winced, the sound of heavy breathing reaching his ears. The light of morning soon followed, assaulting the rest of his senses. His eyelids fluttered, aiding him in his gradual adjustment to the sight before him: eight snouts hovering over him, panting with excitement. He struggled to make sense of it, focusing on where he was and why. He felt he knew these dogs, for some reason, even if names were lost to their slobbery-tongued faces.  
"Wha…?" He groaned, lifting his hands to rub his eyes. His arms felt weak, however, and an acute discomfort accompanied every move he made. He recoiled through his attempts to pull himself up.  
"Hold on there, youngster."  
Take strained to lift his head, whimpering in pain. There, on his stomach, sat a pug that was vaguely familiar to him. It had been watching him struggle the entire time, with the laziest of stares on its button face.  
"Yo," it said, at last, lifting a paw. "My name is Pakkun. Do you remember me?"  
Take finally propped himself up on both elbows and, with groggy eyes, looked the dog up and down. "I do…I do remember you," he croaked. "You're the Hokage's dog."  
"I'm his ninken," Pakkun corrected grumpily.  
Take stared at him blankly. "You're still a dog," he said.  
Pakkun's half-lidded eyes narrowed. "What a charming little boy you are. I could just eat you up."  
"Pakkun!" Guruko jumped up, sitting on his hind legs. "Don't hog the attention. Introduce us!"  
"Ugh," Pakkun rolled his eyes. "Fine."  
Pakkun jumped from the couch, making sure not to drag the covers along with him.  
Take's eyes wandered from the pug to the dogs now grouped together, sitting around a coffee table. The little boy rubbed his eyes again, still unable to believe what he was seeing.  
There were eight, in total: a golden-brown one wearing sunglasses and a slim hound with body tape wrapped around the length of its neck. Sitting in front of him was a smaller dog with brown-tipped ears and rings around its eyes. Beside it sat the overly excited looking one—a golden-yellow dog with dark whiskers etched across its face. Beside it sat a large black bulldog and another dog with spiky white hair on its head. A pale dog lay stretched out in front, with a flame of brownish-grey fluff on the tip-top of its head.  
Lastly, there was the pug.  
"Meet the gang," Pakkun said, pointing a paw at each one. "This here's Akino, Uhei, Bisuke, Guruko, Bull, Urushi, and Shiba. Gang, this is Hamamoto Take, one of Iruka's students." He jumped back on the couch, climbing into Take's lap. "They already know who you are, though," he explained. "I'm just making introductions."  
"Nice to formally meet ya, Take!" Guruko smiled, scampering forward. He gave Take a light tap with his claw. The others did the same, coming around to give various nods, licks, and rapid tail wags in greeting. Take watched them come and go, but his mind remained a hazy cloud of confusion. That's when he realized he was lying on a cushy brown couch and draped in thick blue blankets. He eyed the surrounding room and could have sworn he'd seen this place before; in some distant dream, where everything was bathed in a warm yellow glow.  
"It's not every day we meet a student of Iruka's, except for Team 7, but I don't think they count. They were Kakashi's students, when we met 'em," said the pale dog, Shiba. Take ignored the animal, focused on his own thoughts. He was determined to figure out where he was and why…  
'Wait…Kakashi's students? Kakashi?' Take's mind stumbled on the name that fell from the dog's lips. 'Kakashi as in Hatake Kakashi? The Hokage, Kakashi?'   
Surely…this wasn't the Hokage's house, was it?  
Take looked around again, soaking in the room's features. All the furniture looked made of old, hand-carved wood. Long bookshelves stood against the room's perimeter, cluttered with volumes and tools. There were pictures and scrolls hanging on the walls, but his mind was still too dazed to take in the images.  
It didn't make sense.  
Take always imagined that a Kage's home would be one of…magnificence. This place was warm, welcoming; too pleasant and plain to be the home of a Kage, especially one like that pervy scarecrow.  
"They count," drifted in the voice of another dog, the one named Uhei. "Well, Naruto-kun definitely counts." Take could have sworn he heard that name before. "In any case, Kakashi was more of a trainer than a teacher, wasn't he? Does he even count?"  
"Of course he counts!" Pakkun growled, glaring at Uhei.  
"W-wait a second…" Take's broken voice caught the dogs' attention, and they cornered him with big round eyes. "Are you telling me that…all of you are the Hokage's dogs?"  
"Ninken," Pakkun corrected again, glowering, "and talk about slow to come around. You were something else, in Iruka's class. I thought a kid like you would be a little faster than that," he snorted, staring at him skeptically.  
Take glared and sneered, "So what is this, the pervy scarecrow's house or something?"  
"Pervy scarecrow?" Bull repeated, amused.  
"Ne, I've never heard that one before," Bisuke said, scrunching his face.  
"Neither have I," Akino frowned.  
Pakkun looked to the others, shaking his head.  
"I guess a bit of clarification couldn't hurt," he said, clearing his throat. The ninken sat, all ears, as Take fixed the pug a bitter stare. "Take's one of Iruka-sensei's sharpest students. He is not, however, a very nice kid."  
"Hey!"  
"He gave Kakashi a hard time, even charged him with a kunai."  
"Are you kiddin' me!" Guruko roared, horrified.  
"What?" Urushi growled, glaring at Take. "What the hell is wrong with you, boy?"  
"Boy?" Take scowled.  
"Now, now…let's not get caught up in this," Pakkun continued, holding up a paw. "I think we can safely assume the matter has been settled, since Kakashi's been training this kid."  
"How do you know about that?" Take asked, frowning.  
"Kakashi tells us everything…eventually," Pakkun said, rolling his eyes.  
"Why did you attack Kakashi, Take?" asked the dog wearing sunglasses.  
"I don't know," Take answered back. "I just did."  
"See what I mean?" Pakkun gave a rough laugh. "Very unpleasant, isn't he?"  
"I'm not unpleasant!" Take snapped back. "Maybe I don't wanna answer questions from stupid dogs."  
"Wow." Bisuke's droopy eyes blinked. "He really is unpleasant."  
"Prickly too," Shiba hummed.  
"You could say that. Short-tempered, ain't he?" Urushi snickered. "Almost like someone else, when he was just a small brat."  
"I'm not a brat!" Take shouted, the loudness ringing in his ears. He grew dizzy and swayed, before falling against the couch. "Ugh," he groaned, his head thudding against the armrest.  
"Okay, okay…cut it out," Pakkun intervened, pressing a paw over Take's chest. "Remember what Iruka said. He's still sick."  
"Iruka…? Iruka-sensei?" Take rubbed his brow, looking down at the pug. "Y-you know Iruka?"  
"Know him?" Pakkun paused, staring at his paw. "Why, I'm his favorite."  
"I don't know about that," Urushi grumbled.  
"Iruka-sensei takes care of us," he explained, shooting Urushi a glare. "He's our owner."  
Take looked at him skeptically. "I thought you said the Hokage was your owner."  
"Both Kakashi and Iruka own us. It's a time-share, of sorts," Pakkun smiled, a sea of large grins chorusing behind him. "But enough of that; let's get you back under these covers." Pakkun reached down, pulling the blankets up with his teeth.  
Take didn't have the strength to argue. He settled against the couch, as the pug pulled blanket after blanket back over his shoulders. He sighed, frowning up at the ceiling. He wasn't used to this. A typical morning for him began with climbing from his cot before the break of dawn, so he could take care of the little ones before they started crying. After which, he'd creep into the kitchen and try to sneak some food, before that miserable woman woke up.  
"Where am I?" he said aloud.  
"Mm?" Pakkun's head popped into view. "Ya mean you don't remember?"  
"Remember what?"  
"This is Iruka-sensei's place," Pakkun answered.  
"Iruka-sensei's? You mean…" Take searched the room again, seeing traces of his sensei everywhere he looked now. Nothing was more telling than the student art taped on the walls, some of which read 'For Iruka-sensei' right across the top. "How did I get here?"  
"Kakashi brought you," Pakkun said. "You do remember training with him, don't ya?" Take nodded. "Well… He said you passed out."  
"I don't remember…" Take began but fell short. The memories were flooding back to him. There he was, near the wheat fields and that deserted compound, with Tsuki and the Hokage. They'd been training for hours. Then he remembered heading home and thinking he'd die of agony, if he had to listen to those idiots make small talk, before… "Oh."  
"Yeah, oh." Pakkun grumbled, scratching his ear. "Kakashi said you were exhausted, so he brought you here. It was a good thing he did, because it was Iruka who figured out you have a fever."  
"I do?" Take placed a hand over his head, but he couldn't tell one way or another. He felt only the clamminess of his fingers and the cold sweat on his brow.  
"You were going in and out, all night. I guess that's why you don't remember much, but Iruka and Kakashi stayed up taking care of you. We helped, of course," the pug smirked. "When Kakashi made you soup, we helped Iruka give you a bath."  
"A bath?" Take sniffed his shoulders, curiously. "I took a bath?"  
"Yeah," Shiba voiced, sniffing the air. "Notice how you don't smell?"  
Take lifted the blankets, noticing a different assortment of colors clinging to his body. He was wearing a beige shirt and shorts that didn't hang off of him like his clothes did. "Where are my clothes?" he asked.  
"They're being used to clean the gutters," Shiba said brightly.  
"No they are not," Uhei scolded. "Iruka hand washed them. They're hanging over the tub."  
Take lowered the covers, still frowning.  
"What's wrong, youngster?"  
"…Where's Iruka-sensei?"  
"Well," Pakkun began, "it's a school day. Though he did say he'd come by to check up on you."  
"When will that be?"  
Eight pair of ears perked up, at the distant sound of jingling keys.  
"I'd say right now," Pakkun replied, offering the boy a small grin.  
With a squeak, the front door opened, revealing none other than Iruka himself. An overwhelming sense of relief quickly took hold of Take and, he would have pushed himself up again, if not for the unusually strong paw holding him down.  
"Iruka," he breathed.  
The door clicked closed.  
Iruka looked up from the lock, a broad grin on his face.  
"You're awake," he smiled. Iruka pocketed his keys and approached, dropping his bag on the coffee table.  
"You're back!" Guruko beamed.  
"I said I would be," he said, reaching down to pat the dog's head. He patted and scratched a few more heads, skirting by before taking a seat on the edge of the couch.  
"Iruka," Take repeated, grinning. It meant everything for him to see his favorite person.  
"You were still sleeping, when I left," Iruka explained, "and I didn't have the heart to wake you, so I asked the ninken to watch over you."  
Take looked to the dogs again, some of whom crowded around Iruka's feet.  
"Yes, yes, glad to see you too," he chuckled, looking down. "I've only been gone a couple of hours… You can't be that happy to see me?" he sighed, reaching down to ruffle some more fur. The ninken continued to swarm him persistently. Iruka spotted Pakkun and picked him up, dangling the pug from his underarms. "Pakkun, what's going on?"  
"We're hungry," Pakkun responded begrudgingly, "and put me down. People already think I'm some plush toy."  
"Sorry." Iruka sat him down in his lap, his brow furrowing. "I don't understand. Why are you hungry? I fed you all this morning. Don't tell me you ate it all already...!"  
"But you didn't feed us, Iruka," Pakkun frowned. "Our bowls have been empty since last night."  
"I didn't?" Iruka asked pitifully. Eight dogs shook their head 'no'. Iruka leaned back to look into what Take assumed was the kitchen. "You're right," he said, shakily. He looked to Pakkun again, horrified. "Why didn't you guys say anything?"  
"Well, none of us noticed until you left, and we know you didn't do it on purpose. You've been a bit distracted lately…"  
"I can't believe I didn't," Iruka closed his eyes and shook his head. He looked to Pakkun again, pleading, "Just give me a couple of minutes and I promise I'll treat you all to a good meal."  
That certainly got their tails wagging.  
"Don't worry, Iruka. You can take all the time you need. We're ninken, after all." Pakkun winked. "Isn't that right, guys?"  
"You bet!"  
"Of course."  
"Okay, but not too much longer…"  
Pakkun rolled his eyes and Iruka laughed.  
"Alright then," Iruka said, "and thanks, again, for watching Take."  
"Anytime." Pakkun jumped from Iruka's lap, turning around with a smug smile. He looked to his fellow ninken. "How 'bout we go rest up in Iruka's room?" he suggested, prancing away. The seven other dogs took the hint, following Pakkun out of the room.  
"Sounds like a plan to me," Akino said, scampering past him.  
"I need beauty sleep," Bull said jokingly.  
"Out of my way, slowpokes." Urushi raced by.  
"Aww…but I wanna eat now," Guruko whined.  
One by one, the ninken disappeared down the hall, leaving only Pakkun. He lingered by the doorway, giving Iruka and Take one last look. "We'll come back, when there's food," he said, before running off as well.  
"I see you've met the ninken," Iruka smiled, scratching the bridge of his nose. "I think they've grown a bit co-dependent, but they mean well." Take watched them leave, intrigued. That pug said something about resting in Iruka's room…  
This really was Iruka's home.  
"I'm at your place?"  
"How are you feeling?" Iruka reached out, covering Take's forehead with the palm of his hand.  
"I'm f-fine," Take replied. Iruka was warm to the touch, even when he double-checked with the back of his hand. Then Iruka went about readjusting the covers, making sure to tuck all of Take underneath the wooly blankets. The boy found that he couldn't stop smiling, staring at that worn hitai-ate around his sensei's head.  
"Are you sure?" Iruka looked up, fretful, but Take reassured him with a firm nod.  
"Yeah. I'm sure." Iruka was such a worrier, but the concern in his eyes always made Take feel better.  
"You have a fever."  
"Am I still sick?" he asked, those hazy memories slowly returning to him. He remembered bits of last night. He remembered Iruka telling him he had a fever, which he still couldn't believe. He'd spent all of yesterday feeling ill and hadn't thought much of it, but he could have had pneumonia and it wouldn't have mattered, because no ailment in the world would ever stop that vile woman from kicking him out of that awful place every single morning.  
"Yes," Iruka sighed, his face crinkled with worry. "You're still a little warm." The chunin scooted forward and reached out again, pressing his hand against the side of Take's face. "I'll have to take your temperature again, just to be safe," he smiled sadly, brushing his thumb against Take's cheek.  
Take stared into those kind brown eyes before closing his own, tilting his head into Iruka's caress. It reminded the boy of what it was like to have someone take care of him when he fell ill; someone, like a parent. He could remember falling ill, when he was very young, and his mother sitting with him, tending to him in this same way.  
"Take…what happened last night?" Iruka asked softly, pulling his hand away.  
It left Take's cheek feeling cold.  
"W-what do you mean?" he mumbled, opening his eyes. "I…I don't really remember much," he frowned, staring sheepishly up at the man. He didn't like lying to Iruka, not that he was very good at it. His Academy sensei always gave him that unconvinced look: a thin-lipped frown, just like the one he wore now.  
"Take…"  
"What? I really don't remember, okay?" he shot back, pulling himself up. The covers that Iruka-sensei had him wrapped in fell to his waist again, revealing the clothes that didn't belong to him. They belonged to Iruka.  
He ignored the man's expectant stare, as he struggled to sit up. When Iruka came to his aid, however, keeping a ginger hold on his arms, Take did not protest.  
"Do you remember Kakashi-sama bringing you here, last night?" Iruka asked.  
Take shook his head.  
"He said he found you, in the streets…that you must have gotten into a fight. Is that true?"  
Take stared at him, overwhelmed with amazement. Then he glared, enraged, but not at Iruka. Never Iruka.  
No… He was angry about having to lie again; having to go along with whatever ridiculous story the Hokage had fed to his sensei. After all, he didn't want Iruka growing suspicious of what was really going on. Worst of all, he hated having to cover for the man responsible for his now weakened state. Take knew it was well worth it, but that didn't stop his body from aching all over.  
"Yes," he said through gritted teeth. "I got into a fight, but it was nothing." He added, smirking to his self, "I fought back and beat them up pretty good."  
"You idiot!"  
"Ow!" Take could now add throbbing head trauma to his symptoms. He rubbed the back of his head, where Iruka smacked him, and growled. Iruka didn't look or sound too pleased himself, his notorious temper radiating from beneath a deeply distraught glare. "What was that for?" Take shot back, guiltily.  
"You shouldn't be fighting anyone!" the man roared. "Now, who did this to you?"  
"It doesn't matter," Take muttered.  
"Nonsense, Take," Iruka scolded, holding his waist with tight fists. "These individuals, whoever they are, are not your enemies, and they shouldn't be fighting you anymore than you should be fighting them. They're Leaf villagers, just like you."  
"I'm not a Leaf villager," Take snapped.  
"You don't still believe that," Iruka whispered, his face growing soft.  
Take didn't respond.  
"You shouldn't say things like that, Take. People care for you here, in Konoha, and when you care for someone they become a member of your family." The little boy crossed his arms, trying his best to ignore the disappointment etched into his sensei's brow. "I'm sure there are people you have learned to care for as well. That makes you a Leaf villager all the same."  
"Tch." Take rolled his eyes, relenting. "Only you, Iruka," he admitted, staring down at his arms.  
"I'm sure there are others," Iruka said, a small smile forming against his lips, "but that'll do for now." Iruka ran a hand through his rowdy mane, and Take sulked under the gentle tousling. "I care about you too, Take. That makes you a Leaf villager."  
"You care about everyone," he said moodily.  
"Well," Iruka paused, thoughtfully. "I care for everyone, in the sense that I would never want a fellow villager to come to harm. You must remember that the people of Konoha are but an extension of us. The Will of Fire gives us the strength to stand with our comrades, not against them. Do you understand?"  
"Yes."  
"You're a brave boy, Take, and you're always trying to prove yourself," Iruka continued, tucking a few strands of silver behind Take's ear, "but fighting for the sake of fighting is no way to express your feelings."  
"I got it," the boy huffed. He was being lectured for something that he didn't do; for an event that never took place, and it was all that blasted Hokage's fault.  
Iruka looked on, grimly, examining Take's face. He lifted his chin and turned his head, tracing the cuts and bruises on his jaw.  
"I'm fine," Take whined, swatting the chunin's hand away.  
"Well, you don't look fine. You're all bruised up," Iruka scoffed, ignoring the boy's objections. He lifted Take's bangs, running fingers over the deep gash on Take's forehead. "I'll need to put more ointment on these scrapes, when I get back."  
"When you get back?" Take asked incredulously. "You mean, you're not staying?"  
"I can't," Iruka frowned. "I have a class to teach. You know that."  
"When will you be back?"  
"Not until late," Iruka sighed, "Which is why the ninken will stay with you. They've agreed to keep you company, and they'll make sure you eat and get plenty of sleep."  
"But they can't even feed themselves!"  
"They can," Iruka said, brushing Take's bangs back down. "They're just being needy."  
"But—!"  
"I even took the liberty of bringing you your class assignments."  
"What? Why?"  
"Well, you have to keep up with the class," Iruka argued, chuckling.  
"I'm already ahead of the class," Take pointed out.  
"Then you'll stay ahead of the class," Iruka winked. That knowledge didn't make Take feel any better. He could care less about schoolwork or grades. He doubted the Hokage would hold this absence against him, since he knew he was sick. Take only cared about one thing now and that was spending time with his favorite person.  
"Speaking of…" Iruka reached for his bag. "Tsuki hasn't stopped asking about you. I told him you were ill, and he gave me this." Iruka pulled out a wooden pencil and handed it to Take, and the little boy stared it with disgust. Tsuki's pencil was in terrible shape: chipped in numerous places, with a dull tip, a well-worn eraser head, and a considerable amount of bite marks. "Tsuki wants you to use it today, and he hopes that you feel better."  
"Great," Take sneered.  
"Don't be mean," Iruka scolded, smiling. "You're his friend, and he misses you."  
"…I wish my friend didn't eat his own writing utensils," Take frowned. Despite his disapproval, a part of him drew delight from the gift. For a fleeting moment, his heart had skipped a beat. The idiot redhead had been thoughtful enough to give him something he could use, even if it was a chewed up pencil. "Tell him…thanks," he said, staring fondly at the small gesture.  
"I will," Iruka beamed, "and feel free to use my desk," Iruka pointed behind his head, "and any of the writing utensils in the top drawer." Iruka pulled out a folder, setting it on the coffee table.  
"Thanks, Iruka," Take said, eyeing the folder with disdain. What kid in their right mind would want to do schoolwork, when they're out sick? Iruka gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze, before rising from the couch. The boy watched him walk into the kitchen, his stomach grumbling at the mere thought of food.  
"I prepared some meals for you but you can eat whatever you like. There's plenty of fresh food in the fridge. I'll put the soup back on the stove at a low heat, so you won't have to fiddle with the temperature." Take's mouth watered. Food was a novelty, where he lived. The kitchens were always bare or barred from them. What food Take managed to find, he usually gave to the younger kids who weren't as strong as he was. He could go days without eating, where they couldn't.  
Iruka exited the kitchen, holding a cup in one hand and a tray in the other. He handed Take the cup and set the tray on the coffee table.  
"Have some orange juice. It'll help you feel better," he said. "I left water boiling on the stove, this morning, to make you some hot cereal. It's very hot, so let it cool for a bit."  
Take started on the drink with great enthusiasm, taking one gulp after the other. He looked over the rim, watching Iruka reseat himself on the edge of the couch. His sensei watched him, his warm smile a comfort to the little boy. For Take could never forget that he ate his best meals in Iruka's company. The chunin often stopped by, with care packages. What Take cherished most were those times when Iruka took him out to eat at a ramen shop, just the two of them.  
Take finished with one last gulp.  
"Don't forget to eat, Take. You need to eat and drink lots of fluids, today." Iruka took the empty cup from him.  
"What about the dogs?" Take asked between sips. "Aren't you gonna feed them?"  
"Their bowls are now filled," Iruka shrugged playfully. "They'll smell it, eventually…"  
That was an understatement, Take thought. Not a second later, a chorus of barks and a rumble of paws filled the room. Take looked for dogs and saw only blurs travel from the hall to the kitchen. He blinked, amazed at their speed.  
"That's why they call themselves ninken," Iruka chuckled. "They're no ordinary dogs." They crowded the kitchen floor, climbing over one another, their jowls unhinging to inhale the food Iruka placed in their bowls.  
"Phanks, Imruka!" Pakkun called out, his face no doubt stuffed with food.  
"Don't mention it," Iruka said over his shoulder. "I also bought some treats I thought you'd all like. They're on a plate, on the counter."  
"Iruka, you're the best!" Guruko cried.  
"Hey!"  
"Watch it!"  
"Eat your own food, damn it."  
"Iruka-sensei."  
"Mm?"  
Take looked beyond his sensei, to the wagging tails and hind legs moving in and out of the kitchen. They were voracious and energetic, their playful banter filling the room with ease.  
"Where…is Kakashi-sama?" he asked.  
Iruka's eyes grew wide.  
"I mean, I don't really care," he quickly added. "I-I was just wondering why he left his dogs with you."  
"Mn-ken!"  
Iruka smiled. "He doesn't leave them with me. They sort of…live here, I guess."  
"Does the Hokage?" he asked.  
"Does the Hokage what?"  
Take clarified, "Does he live here too?"  
"N-no!" Iruka stuttered, and Take thought he saw a hint of red spread across his sensei's face. "He comes by, every now and then. That's all," he answered, glancing away.  
Take frowned. "…Is he coming back?"  
"D-do you want him to?"  
"…I don't know," Take mumbled, looking down. He wanted to say 'No' and hated that he couldn't. He had to lie to Iruka, because of that old pervy scarecrow. He could barely move, because of their training sessions. As far as Take was concerned, he had every right to despise the Hokage and want nothing more to do with him.  
He didn't much like the fact that the pervy man seemed so close to Iruka, either.  
"Take?" Iruka placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and stared at him, questioningly, waiting for a response. Take felt encouraged by the gentle circles being rubbed up and down his arm, but the uncertainty in his sensei's eyes made it difficult to answer. Why, he wondered, did Iruka look so…nervous?  
"It's because of the Hokage that I'm here, right?" he asked, slowly.  
"Yes," Iruka nodded, "and he insisted that you stay."  
"…He made me soup?"  
"He did." Iruka gave a hesitant smile. "He helped me take care of you."  
"Then…I want him to come back," Take grumbled, shrugging. "I have to thank him, right?"  
"You don't have to," Iruka reached up, patting his head, "but it would be a very nice thing to do."  
"Iruka-sensei?"  
"Yes?"  
"Do I have to go back to that place?" Take didn't like calling it his home. He didn't have a home, as far as he was concerned. When Iruka shook his head, it was as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. The idea of having to go back when it was so peaceful here, with Iruka…  
"Not today," Iruka said softly. "Today, you're not going anywhere. I contacted Jaakumi-san." Take stared up at the man, horrified. "Don't worry," Iruka added. "She demanded I take you back, but I quickly informed her that the Rokudaime himself insisted that you stay here, with me."  
Something swelled within Take's chest.  
"After that, there was no argument."  
"Tch, she doesn't care about me," Take sneered, and it was sickening to hear that she tried to appear as though she did, yet again. "I'm just a number."  
"She's still your guardian, Take, and that gives her every right to know where you are."  
"I still don't understand why I can't stay with you."  
Iruka frowned. Take looked down, his face growing red. He studied his clean fingertips, the clothes on his back, and the blankets on his legs, looking anywhere but at his sensei. For Take felt Iruka's intense stare, the lingering guilt for doing everything that he could and yet failing to take Take away from that place. The little boy had once scolded and told himself that he'd never bring it up again, but it was hard not to. This was Iruka-sensei's home, and he was here, where he should have been all along.  
He didn't understand why Iruka hadn't fought harder.  
"Take…" Take felt a burning behind his eyes. "We've been over this," he whispered.  
Take refused to look up.  
"Hey, Iruka. You're gonna be late."  
"…R-right. Thanks, Pakkun," Take heard him say. Only when Iruka turned away did he look up, wiping angrily at his eyes. He followed his sensei's gaze, to the clock on the wall. The time was such that, were he at the academy, he would be the only student waiting for the return bell to ring and save him from having to interact with the other students. "I'm sorry, Take. I have to—"  
"Go. I know." Take looked down again, angrily.  
"Let me get you some water…" Iruka said, moving into the kitchen. Take sat, head bowed, listening to Iruka's movements. He could still hear the ninken, though their noisiness had died down. Iruka stepped into the kitchen and turned on a faucet, when Take made the mistake of looking up. His watery, hazel eyes met with calm, brown ones, and he quickly looked away.  
He felt ill, physically ill, to where the aches he'd been feeling returned tenfold, accompanied by a dull pain beneath his ribcage.  
"Here," Iruka returned, handing him the same cup. "There's water in the fridge, but you'll benefit more from room temperature water." Take took the cup and downed the contents, before holding the cup out for Iruka to take.  
Iruka placed the cup on the table and sat back down, to Take's surprise.  
"I thought you had to leave," he said bitterly.  
"I do," Iruka said, "but I need to know you're going to be okay."  
"I'm okay," Take snapped.  
"No you're not."  
"I said I was, so I am—!" Take froze, as two arms circled over his shoulders. Iruka pulled Take close, welcoming him into a hug. Take didn't hesitate to respond, wrapping his arms around the chunin. He snapped his eyes shut and returned the embrace, burying his face into Iruka's shoulder.  
"It's alright to be upset," Iruka said, causing Take to tighten his hold. "Your situation is a difficult one. I…I'm sorry I haven't been able to do more," he whispered, pulling away. Reluctantly, Take let him go. Iruka was all smiles, despite the sadness in his eyes, so Take forced himself to smile too. It hurt, though.  
Iruka stood.  
"…You'll find anything you need here. If not, ask Pakkun or one of the others and they'll go out and get you something. I don't want you leaving for any reason. Is that clear, Take?"  
"Yes."  
"The bathroom's down the hall and to the right. I keep board games and activities by the mantle. You have your school assignments, so I expect them to be done when I get back."  
"Yes, Iruka-sensei," Take rolled his eyes.  
"Yo, Iruka!" Pakkun jumped up, appearing on the other end of the couch. "Tick tock—you're gonna be late, sensei!" he frowned at the chunin.  
"Right," Iruka said again, but he looked to Take, hesitantly. "I'll see you tonight," he said.  
"I'll be here," Take nodded, adamantly. "I promise."  
"Go!" Pakkun growled.  
With a hand seal, Iruka disappeared. Take stared into space, the empty air where Iruka once stood, missing the man already. He glanced at Pakkun, briefly, before climbing from under the covers. His bare feet met the soft carpet, as he reached for his tray of food.  
"Iruka-sensei's on a schedule, you know," the pug said. Take ignored him. "Hey, I'm talking to you."  
It was hot cereal, just as Iruka had mentioned. There was a spoon and a napkin on the tray, so Take picked up the spoon to swirl around the contents. He saw apple slices and bits of cinnamon and couldn't wait to dig in.  
"You're thicker than I thought."  
He watched the heat swirl before his eyes, as he scooped up a spoonful, and blew, chancing the temperature to take a taste. All the while, a four-legged figure moved in the corner of his eye.  
"What are you eating?" Pakkun asked, pressing two paws up against his leg.  
"Food," he answered, stiffly.  
"Food,he says," Pakkun grumbled mockingly. "What kind of food, youngster."  
"Wouldn't you like to know…"  
"Not really."  
Take growled.  
"I'm interested in what you and Iruka were talkin' about. We all are, actually." Take stared at the dog, dropping the spoon into his bowl. It wasn't just the pug now staring at him with great intrigue, but the other dogs as well. They swarmed the other end of the couch, watching him with eerie fascination. Take scowled, as the idea of spending all day with likes of the Hokage's ninken made him feel sick all over again.  
Pakkun pulled a doggy treat from his hitai-ate, taking a loud, crunchy bite. "You just got a lot more interesting, Hamamoto Take."  
Chapter Twenty One  
Iruka's class was a lifeless room, during lunch. The students were gone, out to eat or play, leaving a slew of disorderly desks in their wake.  
Kakashi saw a few of them now, making use of the Academy's open grounds. Other students from other classes had joined the ones Kakashi recognized to partake in their own free time. The jounin could relate, having once been a student himself, but not in this way. His younger self trained, for one thing, using lunchtime as an excuse to practice technique he'd seen from the White Fang. He never once stepped near a playground, when he attended the Academy.  
If not picking flowers from school gardens or eating lunches on school benches, that's where most of Iruka's kids spent their time: dangling from the jungle gym. Kakashi had already made his reservations, some time ago, but had spent a good portion of the last ten minutes questioning their intelligence. The musing became less of a pastime and more of a task, when a boy with short brown hair slipped from the monkey bars, fell on his head, and, without a second to waste, climbed back on top of the monkey bars, only to slip and fall again.  
Even Tsuki had his moment, when the redhead jumped from a swing and landed on a fellow classmate.  
The jounin looked to the door, the sound of rapid footsteps catching his attention. It swung open, revealing Iruka in a state the jounin had not expected. The younger man kept his head bowed low, not once looking to his surroundings; otherwise, he would have seen the esteemed jounin sitting across the room. He shuffled in, with a turbulent air, slamming the door behind him. The classroom shook, and even Kakashi had to brace himself against a fresh wave of anger.  
He kept quiet, watching as Iruka leaned against the door and pressed his forehead against its solid surface. His right hand reached up beside him, stretching the lengths of his fingers until the chunin's palm lay flat against the wood. Still, the jounin kept to his silence. He sensed something troubling; saw something was wrong, to an extent that had deeply displeased the chunin. Kakashi had seen Iruka upset on plenty occasions, frequently being the source of his disturbance, but he'd never seen the chunin under such a coping mechanism.  
It was something exclusive, something so personal that Kakashi felt he was intruding on Iruka's privacy. He wouldn't leave, however. Kakashi remained where he was, driven by the firm desire to stay.  
Iruka exhaled, turning, his back instantly hitting the wall and his hands clutching at its pale blue surface. Spotting the stealthy jounin had startled him, to where his eyes fluttered and his breath hitched with shock.  
"Yo," Kakashi said, waving a hand in the air.  
The chunin unclenched his fists.  
"Kakashi," he breathed, staring the man down with wide eyes. "A head's up would be nice," he said, pushing off the wall.  
"A head's up?" The jounin repeated, astounded by the mere concept. "Where would that leave the element of surprise?"  
"Dying, in a ditch somewhere…hopefully," the chunin replied darkly, rubbing his temple.  
Kakashi jumped from the windowsill and approached. "Lunch is almost over," he said. "You've been gone, this whole time."  
"Really? I hadn't noticed." Iruka snatched up a pile and slapped a folder back against his desk. "Care to point out anything else that's glaringly obvious?" he snapped, tossing folders and papers from one side of his desk to the other. Kakashi looked on, keeping his distance. The jounin had seen Iruka organize his desk before, arranging documents with systematic effectiveness, and knew that this simply wasn't the case.  
He stood by, obediently, so to avoid saying or doing anything that might provoke the chunin's wrath.  
Iruka's movements slowed.  
"I'm sorry, Kakashi." He dropped the pile of papers in his hand, saving them from a fate of disarray. "I don't mean to be rude," he sighed, shaking his head. He quickly went about reorganizing his desk, righting toppled piles of paperwork.  
"Where were you?" Kakashi asked, stepping closer.  
Iruka brushed a hand down the side of his neck, tugging at his uniform, and Kakashi followed the movement with a patient gaze.  
"We had a meeting," Iruka replied, rubbing at his shoulder.  
"Ma, Iruka…These meetings always leave you tense."  
"That's an understatement," Iruka scoffed. "I think faculty meetings were invented for the sole purpose of pissing me off." He gave the Hokage a miserable grin.  
"Only you, Iruka?"  
"Well…" Iruka exhaled, looking down. Kakashi kept his eye on him, noting the chunin's unfocused stare. Iruka was obviously distressed, still the same chunin who had wilted against his classroom door… He stepped closer, grasping the back of Iruka's chair with a gloved grip, stopping an arm's length from former as he committed to memory a sight that would never leave him. "Kakashi?"  
"Yes, Iruka?" Iruka looked to him, the faintest hint of crimson creeping across his face. Kakashi smiled, relieved to see such a familiar sight. For him, making Iruka blush had always been a pleasurable pastime. The jounin dare say he missed it the most, in the days Iruka spent avoiding him. In addition to yearning for his companionship, he longed to see the chunin's nuanced nature.  
"Can I ask you a question?" Iruka asked with uncertainty, his voice just above a whisper.  
"I'm not going anywhere," Kakashi hummed. "What would you like to know?" Iruka looked away, searching for the right words, but Kakashi waited patiently. He could wait for however long it would take the frazzled chunin to collect his thoughts.  
"I-It's a bit of a strange question…"  
"I'm all for strange." Bemused brown eyes locked in on him. "Maa, look who you're talking to, Iruka," Kakashi chuckled.  
"Heh," Iruka uttered, managing a short laugh himself. "I guess you're right."  
"So…" Kakashi picked up a file that was teetering on the edge of the desk and handed it to Iruka. "What's the question?"  
"Thanks," Iruka muttered, taking the file. His small smile grew when Kakashi repeated the task, returning to him more folders and scattered pieces of paper. "Kakashi…what do you remember of your Academy sensei?"  
The question had the jounin somewhat paused, for a moment, but he quickly resumed helping Iruka reorganize his desk.  
"Ne, that really is a strange question, Iruka."  
"You said you're all for strange," Iruka scowled.  
"Yes," Kakashi gave another low chuckle, eyeing the chunin. "I guess you're right." He handed Iruka another stack of papers being held together by a flimsy paperclip. "To answer your question, I'm afraid I don't remember much. As you know, my enrollment here was relatively short and I kept to myself, for the most part." His brow furrowed. "Why do you ask?"  
Kakashi passed on another few pieces of paper, only to realize that there was no hand to receive them.  
"Mm?" His half-lidded eye gazed upward, staring at the quiet chunin. "Iruka…"  
"So that's it then," Iruka stated tightly, his hands dropping like dead weights. He gave the jounin a disbelieving stare, one that morphed into a fiery glare faster than Kakashi could figure out what he'd said or done wrong to deserve the following outburst. "No appreciation, no thought? That person who took an oath to invest in your education becomes just another nameless face, no more important than the enemies you strike down on the battlefield?"  
"Maa," Kakashi frowned. "That's not what I sai—"  
"What was their name?" Iruka hissed, but Kakashi believed the plea in his eyes spoke louder than the venom in his voice.  
"Motou Hideki," Kakashi replied, his cool stare locking with Iruka's heated gaze. "…His name was Motou Hideki."  
"Was? You mean—"  
"He was a good man, a good teacher, who was greatly admired by his students," he finished. Iruka's anger faltered, an inner grief returning to his warm brown eyes. The jounin held out the same few pieces of paper, strangely pained when the chunin reached out to take them. "I believe I misspoke, Iruka, and should have clarified that what I recall of this man is nothing short of an observation rather than a familiarity," he continued, placing a few scattered pens into Iruka's utensil cup.  
"No," Iruka shook his head, "I assumed…"  
"I know, which you—" Kakashi stopped short, correcting his approach. A part of him thought to point out the error in Iruka's ways, to correct the naïve chunin who allowed his emotions and the inner turmoil he no doubt felt to cloud his mind. The jounin instead gave pause, knowing that there was some validity in the assumption. Over the years, Kakashi had met a variety of people, could place a name to all of them, and that was the extent of his knowledge. A name. But Iruka wanted more than a name and would always want to know more than a name. It simply was another part of his nature.  
A crinkled smile formed in Kakashi's eye, as he handed over another folder.  
"You were right to assume, Iruka." Iruka's eyes grew wide, with shock. "I'm rarely inclined to familiarize myself with the people around me. You've picked up on that, by now."  
"Well, you've familiarized yourself with me," Iruka said slowly, looking away, "You know me, and I know you."  
"You and I are different." Kakashi pierced Iruka with a relentless stare, but the chunin kept his head down, his gaze fixed on the manila file in his hands. The jounin took it from him, gently, setting it aside with the rest. Kakashi earned himself the gaze he wished to see, coupled with the flustered expression he'd come to admire. "I can tell you only what I remember of Motou-sensei, Iruka, just like you asked."  
Iruka gave a hesitant nod, watching the jounin with weary eyes.  
"Motou-sensei," Kakashi began, "was well liked, amongst my peers. As for myself, I appreciated him for being fair. He didn't treat me any differently, because of who my father was… At my graduation, he said only that it was an honor to have taught such a talented child, if only for a short while." Kakashi placed the last scattered pieces of paper into a pile, unsure of whether any of them belonged together or not. Not that it mattered, given Iruka's current state. It amused the jounin to know that, were he to have thrown his own workspace into such a cluttered mess, the chunin would never let him hear the end of it. "I discovered that he died, a few years ago, completing a B-Class mission. He was sixty-three."  
Iruka looked to him, his eyes filled with sorrow.  
"Were you anyone else, I would apologize for your loss but…did it feel like a loss to you, Kakashi?" he asked.  
"It's difficult to say," Kakashi said, thoughtfully. "At some point, you grow numb, and the loss is nothing more than a common incident. I do grieve for my former sensei, in the same way that I grieve for all those comrades who fall before me." He pressed his fingertips against the pile, sliding it across the desk. "Does that answer your question?"  
"It does," Iruka frowned. "It's an academically sound response."  
"Maa…What about you, Iruka?" the jounin hummed.  
"What about me?" Iruka reiterated, with blatant apprehension.  
"What do you remember of your sensei?"  
"Plenty," Iruka said ardently, but the fervor went missing from his eyes. "Yamuta Osake," he sulked. "I remember the day he came right up to me and said that I was a troubled case, unfit to be a Shinobi."  
"How wrong you've proven him."  
"He wrote me off, Kakashi," the chunin muttered weakly, "said I wasn't worth the effort, and he convinced me that I wasn't."  
"What changed?" Kakashi stepped closer.  
"The Third," Iruka said quickly, a sad smile on his face. "One day, the Sandaime approached me and everything changed. I was so broken, after…" The chunin closed his eyes, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that Sarutobi-sama was there for me, encouraging me to do what I thought I couldn't. That's all it takes," he laughed, pitifully. "One person! It takes one person to care… Why can't they see that?"  
"…I think I'm beginning to see." Kakashi placed a gloved hand against Iruka's right shoulder, ignoring the former's fervent blush and uncertain stare. "The meeting," he went on to say, kneading the skin beneath his fingertips.  
"Y-yes," Iruka gave a weighted nod. "The majority of the meeting was spent arguing for higher pension and salary, among other things." The Kakashi smiled, when Iruka rolled his eyes. "When you attend these conferences, you go in expecting petty arguments and bureaucratic nonsense," he huffed, "but I never believed, for one second, that my fellow colleagues would turn against me."  
"Mm?" Kakashi froze, his brow growing stern. "They turned against you?"  
"Well," Iruka scratched the bridge of his nose nervously. "Maybe that's a severe way to put it, but it felt that way." He looked to the jounin once more. "A few of the other instructors singled me out to criticize my teaching methods."  
"Which are…?"  
"They say I'm too soft," Iruka frowned, "that I shouldn't put so much effort into my students because, years from now, they won't even remember my name. Apparently, I should focus on the children who show the highest potential and give them more attention, because early graduations make the village look good."  
Kakashi didn't know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say and easily so. His colleagues' argument was a fair position to take, by his deduction. The truth of the matter was that a nation was only as great as its military might, with every Shinobi village vying for supremacy. Nothing established supremacy better than the succession of each new generation, which became the sole reason for holding the Chunin Exams internationally. On the surface, it gave the great five nations the chance to show off their fighters, their land and commercial community but, at the heart of it, the event was merely a game of intimidation: to show other nations what the future had to offer, and nothing proved a greater threat than young, talented fighters.  
The younger the fighter the greater the threat and, with nothing but years to hone and perfect their deadly skills, eligible youths were quite advantageous.  
The jounin sighed, giving Iruka's arm a gentle rub. The truth was too severe for the chunin to accept, if he did not already know. Kakashi doubted that was the case, however. Not even Iruka could be so naïve, evident by the defiance in his eyes. It took one lazy stare for him to gauge what probably took place during that most crucial part of the meeting. Either, Iruka defended himself, tooth and nail, blind to reason, or, he kept his thoughts to himself, silently fuming, all the while aware of this harsh reality.  
One glance and Kakashi knew.  
He was coming to terms with understanding, realizing he knew more about the chunin then he initially thought. He knew what Iruka thought about early graduations, knew that if he ever suggested the concept with Take in mind, the chunin would fight him on every standpoint. Iruka believed in childhoods and that they existed in a Shinobi world. He felt that children should live as peacefully and as innocently as they could, for as long as possible, regardless of their fighting skills. Kakashi realized this was the reason Iruka spoke against his nomination of Team 7, a few years ago. Iruka's close relationship to Naruto and the protectiveness he showered his students made him incapable of letting go.  
Iruka was an idealist, a harmless and somewhat novel concept that made for poor judgment calls.  
Kakashi knew this of the chunin, and yet knowing mattered very little. He often delighted in provoking Iruka and found that, at this time, the desire to do so was lost to him. The engaging discussions and enlightening arguments he so greatly relished would not come about challenging Iruka's beliefs this instant. After all, this was less about values and more about pride, and it was clear to the jounin that Iruka's pride had taken a heavy blow this day. No, Kakashi thought; to provoke the younger man would only tear them apart, a fate the jounin would forever struggle to evade…  
"What did that feel like? When you crossed the line and caused him pain and, without even knowing that he had, he found a way to get back at you…"  
Disputing the subject would only dishearten Iruka further, cause him pain, and Kakashi couldn't think of any position worth defending enough to justify that outcome.  
The jounin would not speak for those individuals responsible for dispiriting the chunin.  
"…They're jealous."  
He had his loyalties, and they belonged with Umino Iruka.  
"Kakashi…" Iruka stared at him, a look of disbelief possessing his features.  
"It's true."  
"That's very kind of you to say, I think," the chunin managed, his face flushing red, "but we both know that isn't true."  
"Ne, Iruka…you should give yourself more credit," Kakashi encouraged sternly. "Despite what you may think, whether you believe your colleagues capable of such resentment, the fact remains: your classes have the highest turnout rate of graduating students."  
"What…? I didn't know that," Iruka breathed, gripped with incredulity. Kakashi felt the chunin's amazement ripple through a lengthy exhale. Iruka looked to him, the gleam in his eyes a mixture of wonder and confusion. "The Academy doesn't keep record of information like that."  
"The Board does," Kakashi shrugged, "and before you question my sources, I'll have you know that I've completed a fair amount of paperwork, upon your insistence."  
Iruka looked away, sheepishly.  
"It's understandable that they'd want to know the effectiveness of the people teaching Konoha's future. You, Iruka, and your teaching methods, are responsible for the highest percentage of students who successfully join a genin team, following graduation." Kakashi reached out, placing his other hand against Iruka's left shoulder. He smiled at the bemused chunin, wanting him to see that there was no need to doubt. "You can see now, why other instructors would question your teaching skills, because they're incapable of emulating what you've accomplished."  
"Accomplished or not, they made their priorities very clear," Iruka frowned. "Even the administration has agreed. They'd rather see one brilliant prodigy emerge and make Chunin at the age of six," he looked to the jounin pointedly, "than see an entire class succeed at a reasonable pace. In any case…" Iruka's tired gaze fell, staring at Kakashi's vest. "Thank you, Kakashi."  
"For what?" the jounin asked.  
"For not throwing this back in my face," the chunin explained. "I know you don't think much about my skills. I know you think I'm soft."  
"Maa…" Kakashi rubbed his hands up and down the sides of Iruka's arms, trying to comfort the chunin. "You're right about that."  
"You're not supposed to agree!" Iruka snapped, slapping the jounin's hands away. "Maybe I should just neglect half my class and drill the other half with constant target practice and mock battles," he scowled.  
"Don't do that," Kakashi hummed. "You wouldn't be you, if you taught any differently. You'd be another instructor, another sensei with students who don't admire him. You've established your own method of discipline and have your own instructive approach, using what some see as a weakness to your greatest strength. You care a great deal about your students, Iruka. You have… a heart, remember?" Kakashi took hold of Iruka's shoulders one last time, giving the gentlest caress his calloused fingers could attempt. "That should never change. As far as the Board is concerned, as far as the Hokage is concerned," his eye crinkled, "your methods are proficient. Leave the prodigy searching for private tutors to sort out."  
"…I think I will," Iruka sighed, giving a slight grin. Still, Kakashi sensed a lingering distance about him, despite his best efforts.  
"You're still upset about something," the jounin said, waiting for a confirmation.  
"I'm just…" Iruka sighed. "I'm just worried."  
"You're always worried."  
"About Take," Iruka pronounced, glaring at the jounin. "Have you checked in on him?"  
"Maa, I swung by," Kakashi drawled, grazing a hand through his shocking hair. Iruka bore into him with a skeptical look, but he was telling the truth. He literally swung by, sitting in a tree outside Iruka's living room window. He watched Take, for half an hour or so, only leaving when convinced the ill boy was in the competent care of his ninken. "Last I saw, he was beating Pakkun at a game of Shogi."  
At last, Iruka gave a genuine smile.  
"Why am I not surprised?" he sighed, shoulders relaxing. "When will Pakkun learn?"  
"He has a one-track mind, I'm afraid," Kakashi murmured, eyeing the classroom. "Pakkun will never learn." He looked to Iruka again. "So…why are you worried?"  
"Why wouldn't I be worried?" Iruka retorted. "Take has a fever. He was beaten and left unconscious!" The chunin placed a hand against his face. "I should have known," he lamented weakly. "I should have seen that he was sick. He was more standoffish than usual—why didn't I set him aside and ask him how he felt?" He looked to Kakashi, hopelessly. "I could have done something. I could have taken him home then, maybe, he wouldn't have wound up in some stupid street fight."  
"Eh, Iruka…" Kakashi rubbed the nape of his neck, grimacing. "You're not responsible for what happens to Take outside the Academy."  
"Take is my responsibility, no matter what," Iruka lashed out. Kakashi did not respond with surprise, however. He'd seen the lengths of Iruka's concern, watched him sit at Take's side while succumbing to bouts of slumber. The jounin knew that Iruka cared for all of his students, but he shared a unique attachment to Take, an evident bond that clearly rivaled the relationship he shared with Naruto.  
The jounin accepted that Take was special, and he admired the boy's determination, his brute power and sharp intellect. These qualities, however, were not exclusive to Take alone and, if a younger Naruto was any indication, did not make for Iruka's special people.  
"I failed him, again…"  
Kakashi did not understand what tied Iruka and Take together just yet.  
"Do not blame yourself, Iruka." Kakashi had hoped that the chunin would not dwell too long on an incident that had never occurred. To his dismay, Iruka had not only dwelled on it but had taken fault for his impromptu fabrication.  
"This is one occasion where I can't be convinced, Kakashi." Iruka gripped the edge of his desk, shaking slightly. "This is just how I feel."  
"Take will be fine."  
"That's not the point. Even you must know that, Kakashi."  
"Even me?" Kakashi's silver brow rose into his lopsided hitai-ate.  
"Never mind," Iruka huffed, pushing away. He stared at the jounin, a grim look on his face. "For Take, I am that one person; I try to be, at least. I don't want him to think I've abandoned him."  
Kakashi buried his hands into his pockets, his head tilting in curiosity. "I fail to see how you've abandoned him. You took him in, tended to his illness… You've been nothing short of a mother hen, since last night."  
Iruka glared but said nothing to him and, for one weak moment, Kakashi thought of telling the chunin the truth. If he told the truth, Iruka would have no reason to feel guilty. The anguish in his eyes would leave him, quickly followed by the devastation that racked his frame. Then blame would quickly fall onto him where, beyond that foresight, the future was bleak, unknown and, quite possibly, nonexistent.  
No.  
For the purpose of self-preservation, Kakashi could not tell Iruka the truth.  
If he wanted to stay in the chunin's good graces, he could not tell Iruka the truth.  
…If he wanted Iruka, he could not tell Iruka this truth. Not now, at least.  
Iruka stepped away from his desk, crossing his classroom.  
"I'm not entirely surprised to see you, Kakashi, but I'm curious to why you're here," he said, righting a few desks. Kakashi watched him, intently, studying the chunin from head to toe.  
He looked to Iruka's hair. It was as meticulous as ever, pulled back in a band wrapped three times around: no more, no less. Apart from the few strands pouring over his hitai-ate, the chunin had every single strand of hair slicked together but had failed to tame the thick tendrils cascading from his ponytail.  
There was the chunin's caramel complexion, his oval face, and the thin, dark eyebrows framing his temple. Iruka reached down to grab a fallen pencil, revealing the supple tip of his nose. Iruka's ears curved, where Kakashi's pointed, and his jaw was strong but not as severe as his own. When the chunin stood, the outline of his solid form became definite beneath his uniform: the roundness of his shoulders, the lean muscle in his arms, the arch of his lower back, the firmness of his…  
"Kakashi?"  
"I came to see you, Iruka," Kakashi answered, the deep red in Iruka's cheeks visible from where he stood. "Am I correct in assuming it would be unusual not to see me?"  
"You have a point there," Iruka hummed, tossing scratch paper into the trash bin. He looked up, giving the jounin an uncertain smile. "I-it's nice to see you too. I hope you didn't have to wait long," he sighed, running a hand over his hair. He passed by, taking a blue folder and a box of pushpins from his desk.  
"Maa, just since lunch started."  
"That's almost an hour, Kakashi," the chunin chided, pinning graded papers to the large bulletin board on the wall.  
"Is it?" Kakashi asked cheerfully. "I hadn't noticed."  
"I certainly would have noticed," Iruka mumbled, pulling another "100 %" assignment from his file. "Then again, I wouldn't have waited that long…"  
"I didn't mind waiting for you," Kakashi replied, taking a seat on the edge of Iruka's desk. "I can wait for as long as it takes, Iruka."  
Iruka paused, turning. He had his folder wrapped in his arms, pressed against his chest, while his small, plastic pushpin box dangled between two pinched fingertips. The expression on his face…was unclear, and Kakashi wanted to believe that he could but he simply could not discern the look in his eyes. That was a first, for him: no blush, no twitch, no crinkled brow or facial indication of any sort for him study.  
It caused Kakashi to wonder just what it was he was expecting to see. What sign was he, Copy Nin Kakashi, looking to record?  
"Well, that's—"  
"Yes?"  
Their eyes locked. Kakashi smiled, mimicking the small grin spreading across Iruka's lips.  
"I was going to say that it was nice of you to wait for me. I would have left a note, but the meeting was short-noticed. Suzume-sensei informed me of it, just minutes before the lunch period started."  
"Have you eaten, Iruka?" Kakashi asked.  
"Well, no," the chunin shrugged. "When would I have had the time?"  
"Nee…You're right," Kakashi drawled, heaving a grave sigh. "I should have stopped by Ichiraku's." He looked Iruka over, frowning. "You must be starving."  
"I'm fine," Iruka said, chuckling when Kakashi's brow rose with disbelief. "Really…"  
There was a knock on the door. Kakashi looked to Iruka, questioningly, but the Academy sensei simply shrugged his head.  
"Come—" The door swept open before Iruka could even finish his invitation. The two men turned, surprised in their own rights to see Lady Utatane standing in the doorframe. "L-lady Utatane," Iruka stammered, standing about-face.  
"Iruka-sensei," she greeted, giving a curt nod.  
Iruka gave a low bow.  
Then Utatane turned, her wrinkled eyes narrowing in on the idle Rokudaime. "I'm surprised to see you here, Kakashi-san."  
"And I you," Kakashi remarked, hunching.  
"I issued a messenger who came earlier and was promptly informed that Iruka-sensei was attending a meeting. I was in the vicinity, so I thought to return myself."  
"Uncommon," drifted Kakashi's deadpan tone. Iruka lifted his folder to cover his mouth, suppressing the urge to laugh with a few polite coughs.  
"Indeed," Lady Utatane said, looking between the two men. With a humming sound, she reached into her robe, pulling a short scroll from her inner pocket. "I have information to pass on to you, Iruka-sensei."  
"Mm?" The chunin blinked. "Information, Lady Utatane?" he asked politely. Kakashi looked to Iruka and glared, struggling to determine what annoyed him more: Utatane's presence or the fact that Iruka showed her immense respect, even after the trouble she and Mitokado had caused him.  
"Yes," Utatane nodded. "Given that you are the Hokage's assistant," Kakashi threw the elder a wide-eyed stare, "this dispatch is better suited for your eyes to see. May I step in?"  
"Of course." The elder approached, and Kakashi watched her walk across the room with a trained eye. Utatane held out the scroll. Iruka accepted the small piece of paper, unraveling it with his free hand. "It's directions," he stated, looking to her questioningly.  
"Yes," the elder confirmed. "Konoha's textile district is known for manufacturing our military uniforms, civilian clothes and material goods. There resides Saki Shun, a world-renowned tailor and native to this village." She turned towards Kakashi, frowning. "It was he who outfitted your Hokage robes. Upon my request, he has tailored a new set of robes, keeping you in mind."  
"May I ask why?" Kakashi asked, dryly, beyond peeved.  
"Tomorrow you, the Rokudaime, will attend the first of many meetings, where a panel of your peers, the Board, a lower level representative; in this case, your assistant," her beady eyes darted towards Iruka, "and yourself will review a series of high-profile assignments. The Council has already assigned these missions to selected individuals and teams, based on the expertise necessary to complete the mission. I believe you are familiar with your task in these proceedings."  
"Of course," Kakashi shrugged. "I'm a glorified mouthpiece."  
"Kakashi-sama!" Iruka hissed, frowning with disapproval.  
"Call it what you will, Hatake-sama, but it is the Hokage's responsibility to send these individuals off," Utatane said sternly. "They will look to you, for encouragement, and for any additional information pertaining to the mission. To fulfill this obligation, you must present yourself as the leader of this village, and that includes wearing the uniform fitted for your title."  
Lady Utatane turned to Iruka, offering the chunin another curt nod. Kakashi looked to Iruka, the uncertainty in his brown eyes as he returned the gesture. The elder then returned her gaze to him, expectantly, but the jounin found he had nothing to say. He stared at her, defiantly, her words sinking into the core of his being.  
"That is all that I have to say." Utatane turned to leave. "You have your instructions, Iruka-sensei. As the Hokage's assistant, I suspect you will treat this task with the promptness it requires. The panel convenes tomorrow, at ten."  
"Yes, Lady Utatane."  
"Shun-san is aware that the Godaime's assistant has departed from Konoha and knows that it is the current Hokage, the Rokudaime's assistant who will come to retrieve the garments. He has never met you, however, and will want to see identification as well as your registration number to verify that you are, indeed, Umino Iruka."  
"Yes, Lady Utatane."  
"Mm…" Utatane and Iruka looked to Kakashi. "Paranoid his design might fall into the wrong hands?" the jounin hummed humorously. "How much does Kage wear sell for?" he asked Iruka.  
"I don't know," the chunin shrugged. "More than I'll make in a lifetime, most likely. Do you mean before or after they've been worn?"  
"Maa… Does that make a difference?"  
"You'd be surprised…"  
"I expect to see you at tomorrow's assembly," Utatane stated forcefully, her shrill voice cutting into their exchange. She took hold of the door handle, as tightly as her aging strength would allow. Kakashi crinkled his eye, delighted in the displeasure on her face. "I believe I've made myself clear."  
"Do I have a choice—?"  
"Yes, Lady Utatane," Iruka said abruptly, bowing. "I will be sure to assist the Hokage in preparing for the meeting."  
"Yes, well…" Utatane pulled the door, taking her leave. Kakashi looked on, waiting eagerly for the door to close behind her. "Oh, I almost forgot." The woman turned again, looking towards the jounin with a thin-lipped smile. "I believe congratulations are in order."  
"Mm?" Kakashi perked up, watching the elder with mild suspicion. "I'm afraid I don't understand."  
"Of all the times to be modest, Kakashi-san," Utatane chuckled unpleasantly. "There's no point in hiding it." She looked to Iruka, smiling. "The Hokage spent this morning with one of Konoha's most beautiful and brilliant Kunoichi, Mitarashi Anko. Onlookers spotted the two taking an intimate walk around the hospital. From what I've heard, it was quite the romantic encounter."  
Kakashi froze, the blood draining from his face as he sat a rigid stone.  
"Word spreads quickly in a Shinobi village, Kakashi," Utatane continued merrily. "The discovery of this union was inevitable, but you shouldn't be discouraged. You should be proud. Mitarashi-san is an exceptional Shinobi, a good woman," she looked between the two men. "She will make a fine wife and partner that the people of this village can look up to."  
Kakashi heard the sound of something fall behind him: the box of pushpins in Iruka's hands, falling and spilling out onto the floor.  
"Good day, gentlemen."  
The door shut close behind her, with an unusually crystal-clear 'click'.  
Kakashi's chest fell, as he inhaled for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. His eye, frozen with dismay, remained fixed on the door, where the elder had taken her leave. He couldn't stop staring, and he refused to believe it was fear that kept him from looking anywhere else. He felt the presence of another but refused to acknowledge that said person had heard what he had just witnessed. He felt a cold wind drift in from the window, its swooshing noise penetrating the otherwise quiet room.  
He looked to Iruka, who quickly dropped the blue folder in his arms. The chunin fell to his knees head bowed, picking up the small, variously colored pins strewn about the floor. The jounin stared, unnerved by Iruka's determination.  
"What a grossly misconstrued account," Kakashi chuckled, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously. "People believe they saw me courting Mitarashi-san…how amusing. Wouldn't you agree, Iruka?"  
Iruka didn't respond, focused on his self-given task.  
Kakashi frowned. "I was not courting Anko."  
"Clearly."  
"Not that I was with her at all, mind you," Kakashi added, correcting himself. He approached the kneeling chunin, standing over him. "She followed me, and I lost her. That's all."  
"I don't care."  
"I'm telling you, Lady Utatane has been incorrectly informed—"  
"I said I don't care, Kakashi-san," Iruka hissed, shooting the older man a cold stare. Something constricted in Kakashi's chest. The chunin returned to his task, gathering the last of the pushpins. "Class will resume any moment now, and I have too much to do to deal with…this." Iruka looked away, pulling the box into his tight grip. "Now leave, please."  
Kakashi didn't want to leave, not with the turn of events as they were. Iruka climbed to his feet, collecting the scroll and his folder as he stood, and marched to his desk. Kakashi attempted to block his path but Iruka simply brushed past him, sparing not even a glance.  
"Hey," Kakashi pulled Iruka back, gripping his arm tightly. Iruka hissed but the frustrated jounin only pulled him closer, until he could feel the anger burning in the former's skin. Kakashi found that he was taken, absolutely possessed by the heat. This intense warmth had always been there, just out of his reach, where Iruka's mere presence had always been an all-encompassing sensation. Kakashi wouldn't let that feeling go, even if it struggled, wrestled against him. He could stand here for as long as it took, listening to the rapid beating of Iruka's heart, feeling the violent huffs of breath escape his lips; staring down into those fiery brown eyes, as Iruka tried and failed to pull away from him.  
"Let go of me," the chunin growled, but the jounin wouldn't let up. "Kakashi-sama…"  
Kakashi was at a loss for words. He knew, once more, what he wanted to say. He wanted to clarify the situation, even when he knew it would make very little difference. He had angered Iruka, for reasons he couldn't possibly comprehend, and so kept quiet. He held Iruka's attention, his body, challenging the chunin with his own steely glare. He ignored the sound of children's playful laughter, as it drifted through the window. There was no playground, no Academy or classroom...  
There was only him and Iruka.  
"You're to pick up my robes, this evening," Kakashi said, looking to the scroll of paper still clutched in Iruka's fist. Giving orders, he knew, was a foolish approach, especially where the irate chunin was concerned, but it was the only skill still functioning among his mental capabilities.  
"I have a better idea," Iruka said through gritted teeth. He unclenched his fist, grabbing the scroll with his free hand. He then shoved it down Kakashi's front pocket, causing the jounin to stumble forward unexpectedly. "Why don't you pick up your own robes? Make an outing of it, since you're never doing anything you're supposed to be doing. Neglect your duties, as per usual, and take another intimate stroll. Who knows? You might run into someone willing to worship the ground you walk on—there's plenty out there!"  
Kakashi's grip tightened, emitting another hiss from the chunin. Regardless, Iruka refused to stand down, challenging him with a smoldering gaze. Kakashi thought to let go, ashamed of his cruelty, but that bout of doubt went as quickly as it came.  
"You are out of line, Iruka," Kakashi stated coldly. "You are my assistant and, as such, you obey the commands I give you. It is you who will do the retrieving." Then he frowned, his cold tone faltering. "Make an outing of it, yourself. Perhaps Yamato can accompany you… I'm sure the two of you will find that arrangement most agreeable."  
Finally, Iruka managed to tear himself from Kakashi's grip. He stumbled away, his anger coupled with bewilderment, and he watched Kakashi, gaping with disbelief. "Are y… are you spying on me?"  
"Hardly," Kakashi barked, unconvincing even to himself. "I'm just a keen observer."  
The school bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.  
"Get out."  
"…As you wish." Kakashi heard running, the rushing footsteps of students returning to their classes. He gave Iruka one last look, before turning to leave, his every step growing more definite. The jounin looked to the floor, expecting the linoleum tiles to crumble beneath his feet.  
"Kakashi."  
Kakashi stopped by the door.  
"…Take asked about you," he heard Iruka say. He turned back slowly, intrigued. "He wants to see you," Iruka continued, crossing his arms. His eyes, however, had softened to a lukewarm stare. "He's expecting you to drop by."  
"…Should I?"  
"You should, for Take," Iruka muttered quickly, looking anywhere but at the Hokage. "It would do you both good, to spend time together. He's a lot like you, I think."  
"Maa… My intention was to drop by, Iruka," Kakashi drawled. "He will see me."  
"I'm glad," Iruka replied, wearing the bleakest frown upon his face, "but… I hope you don't intend to stay the night." Brown eyes locked with a lazy grey one. "Come over to visit Take, but… I think it's best you return to your own home tonight."  
"I understand," Kakashi said…but he didn't.  
The thought of returning to his own apartment left a sinking feeling in his stomach. He thought of it now and the dusty, desolate shell it was, in comparison to Iruka's humble but welcoming abode. The jounin talked a lot more, under Iruka's roof. He found joy outside the bindings of his Icha Icha novels; laughed true laughs and smiled real smiles. He would gladly sleep with his back against the couch, listening to an annoying little brat mumble nonsense in his sleep, rather than face the emptiness that was his home.  
"Can the ninken stay?" was all that he asked, however.  
"Well, yes," Iruka breathed, and it was apparent to Kakashi that the chunin had never intended to kick them out. "They're more than welcome to stay. It's your call…Kakashi."  
The classroom door swung open for the umpteenth time that day. In came in influx of perspiring children as they raced pass the Hokage's solid form.  
"Hey look! It's the Hokage!"  
"Kakashi-sama! Are you teaching us another lesson?"  
"Iruka-sensei has the coolest friends!"  
"Keep the dogs," Kakashi said, raising his hands into a hand seal. He disappeared instantly, leaving behind a trademark residue of smoke and falling leaves.  
"Whoa! Did you see that?"  
"He did that at the inaugural thingy! I remember that!"  
"Dogs! Did he give you dogs, Iruka-sensei?"  
"Iruka-sensei?"  
"Why do you look so sad, Iruka-sensei?"  
Chapter Twenty Two

Kakashi stirred from sleep, confused by how different Iruka's couch felt. A cool, thin sheet and overly starched comforter covered him, as opposed to the numerous blankets Iruka often draped over his seemingly sleeping form. Gone were the soft seat cushions beneath him and the cramped way in which he slept, replaced by a wide, firm mattress. Finally, he opened his eye and did not see the distant outline of a coffee table but instead the familiar green walls of his own apartment.  
A low groan emitted from the depths of his lungs.  
Kakashi woke to still silence and the stale air of his apartment, a spectacle of ninken and the orchestrated melody of Iruka's daily routine absent this morning. He climbed to a sitting position and the beddings fell from his shoulders, exposing his naked torso to the biting cold. He leaned forward, his muscles constricting, and ran a hand down the side of his bare face. He stroked his chin and blinked, willing the grogginess to go away, but the glow of daybreak continued to cause some disorientation. After seconds of pinching his brow and rubbing his eyelids, Kakashi turned, searching the surface of the windowsill above his headboard.  
"Mm?" The jounin hummed, when he did not find what he was looking for.  
He spotted his framed copy of Team 7's first and only group photo. He noted the time on his alarm clock and detected the weapons stashed within reach of his bed. He found that a film of dust coated everything in sight and that the small plant wilting against the window frame needed watering. Still, he did not find the dog tags he regularly wore around his neck. Their mysterious absence would surely disrupt his morning routine.  
He frowned.  
Kakashi had fought wars, battled admirable adversaries, and completed dangerous missions, all while wearing his dog tags. He faced every confrontation, with the belief that those tags would be all that was left of him. Like any expectant soldier, he often imagined the many ways in which a retrieval team might find his body: mangled, torn apart, cut to ribbons, or burned to such a degree that he was unrecognizable. Made from the strongest, most resilient alloy the Land of Fire had to offer, however, his dog tags would survive and serve to identify him amid a red sea of nameless corpses.  
Kakashi thought long and hard over where he might have left them, only to realize that he hadn't been wearing them for some time now. Knowing this troubled the jounin, because he considered them a part of him, just as intimate to his person as the Sharingan in his left eye. It was illogical but true, making the task of finding them a top priority.  
Where had he left them? No doubt somewhere familiar, somewhere he frequented daily, and, that being the case, certainly not here. Kakashi hadn't spent much time at his apartment. He came by, every now and then, to make quick changes or switch out the weapons in his flak jacket. He found his days more occupied now, performing his Hokage duties, answering to the Council—he'd been dodging their requests to meet like the plague—and commanding Konoha's intricate Shinobi regime. Then there was Take and Tsuki, as he dedicated a good portion of his time to training the two boys.  
Time management wasn't Kakashi's strongest suit, but it was necessary for him to make an attempt. Otherwise, he couldn't manipulate the daily schedules Iruka wrote out for him so that they suited his extra-curricular activities. By doing so, Kakashi even managed to find extra time on his hands, though he was determined to spend it all with Iruka. Even when Iruka thought he could avoid him, Kakashi always managed to slip by…  
"Ne..." Kakashi heaved a great sigh, closing his eyes. His head fell back as he swallowed, the knot in his throat bobbing up and down. The edge of his headboard pressed against his scalp, combing through spikes of bedridden hair. His mind struggled sluggishly through several memories, instances of when he'd set his dog tags on some surface: Iruka's coffee table, his desk, his kitchen counter. Even the chunin's bathroom sink. That's where they were, on the chunin's bathroom sink.  
Kakashi's frown slowly disappeared, the slightest tilt tugging at the corners of his lips.  
The bathroom floor was a sheet of ice against his feet, but Kakashi couldn't concern himself with the sensation. Only when his showerhead let forth a burst of hot water did he acknowledge any sensation at all. As water cascaded down into his bathtub, he thought he might like to stay here, like this, drowning in droplets.  
He was sincerely considering the notion, given his tired state. Climbing out of bed had proven to be somewhat of a victory, in this fatigued state. Kakashi couldn't explain his unusually deep slumber either, or why the weight of the world seemed to have fallen upon his shoulders. Listlessness was unlike him, unless rendered invalid. The jounin had always been a light sleeper, always waiting to react in the face of potential danger. Even in his homeland, his apartment, he'd long since realized that he was never one-hundred percent safe, and he'd trained his body to realize that as well.  
So this stubborn lethargy…was completely beyond Kakashi's comprehension. He lugged around, shuffled across his bedroom, making sure to avoid the various tripwires someone had placed down on the floor. His only functioning reflexes seemed to be the instinctual ones; the ones telling him that if he stepped here or stood in this spot for too long, an explosion of kunais might fly across the room and use him for target practice. Alternatively, a bucket of questionable substance might materialize from out of nowhere and pour down on his head.  
The jounin reached back, dragging a washcloth across the nape of his neck. He squeezed it with a tight fist, watching the soapy suds cascade down his shoulders. He was in no rush; although, being negligent with his time was not nearly as entertaining when his body and mind seemed drained of all energy. Kakashi shut his gaze and bowed his head, every muscle in his body tensing beneath the heated water.  
Kakashi stepped out, eventually, pulling a towel from a rack and wrapping it around his hips. He approached his sink, wiping the steam from the glass above the counter. It cleared, reflecting a mirror image of his bathroom. The jounin looked to his surroundings: the dirty hamper stuffed with unwashed uniforms, the various unused towels hanging from the racks, the linoleum tile design decorating his bathroom walls, a pattern of blue and white squares, and the toilet in the corner, with its seat still suspended in an upright position.  
Then there was him.  
He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights, giving way to the yellow hue creeping in through his bathroom window. Half of him remained a dark void, as the light hit him in such a way that the definition in his physique casted shadows across his pale skin.  
Kakashi wasn't too fond of looking at himself, as he did now. The leader of Konohagakure stared, from the dripping mop of hair on his head to the black towel hanging just below his pelvis. The visible part of his body read like a canvas of violence, with different shades and depths of scar tissue painting various parts of his skin. The jounin traced his fingers down a particularly brutal gash scarring his lower abdomen and glided a hand over the puncture wound just below his ANBU tattoo. The remnants of a shallow slash remained etched diagonally across his pecs, a lasting gift from Hidan's triple-bladed scythe. Various small scrapes covered his upper torso, including an electric burn marring the skin against his left scapula.  
There was one scar, however, that stood out amongst the rest. Granted it was Kakashi's fault, for not seeing that his wound be tended to within a proper amount of time. After his fight with Haku and his last stand with Momochi Zabuza, the jounin went on to help defeat reanimated corpses of the most revered fighters the Water Country had to offer: the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. Because of his zeal, his fury, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Kakashi quickly lost sight of his own wellbeing. He kept his cool, as far as his comrades were concerned, thinking critically for their sakes. He quickly forgot about the blow that threatened to slice him in half and the flood of blood gushing from his midsection. He marveled at it now, running a long finger across its jagged surface, not at all regretting what took place that day.  
Kakashi reached down, ghosting a hand over the fine silver hairs trailing down from his naval. He traced it, up and down, resigning himself to the low chuckle beating against his ribcage. It amused him to think of how each scar, no matter how old or faded, came with a detailed account of how and where he'd acquired it. How funny it was that he could remember these violent events, and yet he couldn't remember all that had happened last night.  
His focus moved about his lean muscled body, looking anywhere but his face. He'd come across villagers, civilian and ninja alike, and enemies, no less, who wanted nothing more than to see that face. He didn't know what all the fuss was about, to be honest. He held a striking resemblance to the White Fang, nothing more nothing less. That's not to say that, after two decades of wearing masks, he was entirely unaware of the appeal. A sudden mysteriousness about himself that others simply couldn't resist.  
He shielded his sight and masked his face, however, for reasons that did not concern the knowledge of others.  
Kakashi wandered into his living room, readjusting the towel around his midsection. He continued the task of circumventing tripwires, the only part of an elaborate trap that he hadn't cared to take down. He'd taken down the nets in the hall, the explosive tags above his windows, and the buckets of syrup hanging from the ceiling of his kitchen. That was after, of course, the onslaught of shuriken he triggered by turning the doorknob to his apartment. He dodged the attack by waiting outside, listening as weapon after weapon punctured his front door.  
Kakashi imagined a hefty surprise waiting for him, in his den, but he found that he couldn't care enough to check.  
He still couldn't.  
The culprit had left a note on the kitchen counter. He picked it up now, as he recalled doing so the night before, his brow furrowing over its simply stated message:  
You're an ass.  
There was no name, no indication whatsoever to who it was that had broken into the Rokudaime's home and rigged it. That's not to say Kakashi didn't already have his suspicions. Despite a lack of sophistication, most likely due to a lack of time, these uninspired traps had the name of a certain tokubetsu jounin written all over them. It didn't take Kakashi long to deduce that this was Anko's doing, especially given the buckets of dango syrup. Dead giveaway.  
The jounin tossed the note to the kitchen counter, just as he had last night.  
Kakashi could remember that much: dismantling traps and finding a note. He also remembered searching his kitchen for something to eat and finding only a few rotten vegetables, some frostbitten fish, and a carton of milk gone far beyond its expiration date. He'd searched his shelves and found some sake, the memory settled in, gazing at the tall glass bottle now. He picked it up and was surprised to find that it wasn't nearly as heavy as he expected it to be. In fact, the bottle was empty, to where Kakashi found only a drop left circling the base.  
"Mm," he grunted, setting the bottle back against the island table.  
There was nothing for him in here, but his appetite was nonexistent to begin with. Kakashi exited his kitchen, questioning why he'd stray in there. He chucked it up to the monotony of early morning, the not knowing what to do with himself. The jounin roamed his living room and, at last, thought to put some clothes on when he noticed a package sitting on his coffee table. He approached it, knowing vaguely of its contents.  
He'd forgotten all about the package, actually, until laying eye on that empty sake bottle unlocked a floodgate of memories.  
Kakashi remembered sitting on his couch, like now but with clothes on. In his hand, he held a tall glass filled with his alcoholic beverage of choice. He was eyeing it, his mind in a hazy stupor far more potent than this morning. It was dark, because he never once bothered to turn on any lights. He settled into the black leather cushions of his couch and drank, hypnotized by the orange glow coming from a streetlamp outside.  
It was morning now, giving way to daylight, and every street lamp down the block had long since been extinguished. There was no tall glass in his hand, no more sake to drink, but Kakashi still managed to gaze upon this mysterious brown package in the same hypnotic trance.  
"…There you are. What the hell are you doin' over here? Why aren't you over at Iruka's?"  
Kakashi reached over and grabbed the package, setting it down in his lap. It was considerably heavy, a fact his strangely weakened muscles had to reconsider. He went about peeling away the wrappings, his fingers soon finding a snag in the leather straps; teeth marks, the jounin gathered, right where a conventional carrier would have held it with two fingers.  
Pakkun, he thought, recalling how his familiar pug materialized beside what was once a full bottle of sake.  
"Answer me, you dolt!"  
"…I was there earlier."  
"Yeah, but you're not there now, and we were wonderin' why that was."  
"Nee... I thought if I left during one of your many catnaps, I'd be spared this interrogation."  
"We're no cats, damn it. We're ninken."  
"Easily provoked as always, Pakkun."  
"What's going on, Kakashi? You'd rather sit here in the dark than stay with Iruka?"  
"…I have my reasons."  
"What reasons?"  
It was a wooden chest, well polished, with the Konoha emblem engraved on the lid. Kakashi pulled off the lid and placed it on the couch, reaching for what he assumed was a certification of some sort.  
"Don't make me bite you."  
"Like you could bite me."  
"I've bitten you before."  
"I'll have you put down, this time."  
"Kakashi…!"   
"He asked me to leave."  
"Who, Take?"  
"No…Iruka."  
Kakashi unfolded the piece of paper, his eye growing wide at what he saw.  
"…"  
"He asked that I not stay the night, and I thought it would be considerate to leave before he came home."  
"What do you mean he asked you not to stay?"  
"…It's exactly as it sounds, Pakkun."  
"I know what it sounds like! What did you do, Kakashi?"  
"I'm not sure… I take it that's for me."  
"Yeah. Iruka woke me up and sent me off with it. When I asked why he couldn't give it to ya himself, he wouldn't answer me."  
"I see…"  
It wasn't a certificate. It wasn't a receipt or a statement of ownership. It was a handwritten note, much like Anko's, except it was longer and didn't insult him. He recognized this script, the neat and tightly coiled manner in which every word was written. He'd seen it before, marking student assignments and chastising poorly written mission reports. This was Iruka's writing.  
"What is this?"  
"Highly flammable, if they're anything like the ones before."  
The jounin folded the paper and looked away, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. He panned over it but did not read, as though a note this short could possibly bring any message of importance. Still, he hesitated, his gaze staring off into the distance.  
"You've completed the task Iruka has given to you. You can go now."  
"What about you?"  
"What about me?"  
"…"  
"I'm staying here, Pakkun. This is where I live, after all."  
"Then I'm staying too. We can catch up. You can let me in on all the other stuff you haven't been telling us."  
"…"  
"Kakashi…"  
"I'm better left alone. You'll find Iruka and Take far better company than I."  
"That depends. How many drinks have you had?"  
"Go, Pakkun."  
"…Is that an order?"  
"I can easily make it one."  
"Fine, I'll go. But just so you know, I don't like this."  
"Ne…too bad. You're spoiled enough, as it is …"  
Kakashi unfolded the flimsy piece of paper once more, needing to quench his curiosity. His brow creased, soaking in Iruka's words at a snail's pace. When he finished reading it, he read it again, unable to look away.  
Kakashi,  
Shun-san sends his regards. He apologizes for the inconvenience it must have been, for you to have "his fine work stolen and discarded in the way that it was". His words, not mine.   
Anyway, Shun-san allowed me the 'privilege' of being the first to see your new robes. I like them. I think you're going to like them too.  
-Iruka  
Kakashi clenched Iruka's note in his fist, staring into that hollowed square underneath his gaze. He reached in, pulling out what was unmistakably a pale grey sleeve embroidered with red triangles on the cuff. He blinked, the familiar pattern taking him by surprise. He'd seen it before, many times in his youth, worn by the White Fang. Kakashi delved further into the contents of the chest, deplorably intrigued by what was to be his new robes; what it was the elders wanted him to wear.  
"They will look to you, for encouragement…"  
Utatane's words weighed a heavy burden on the Rokudaime's person. He was not looking forward to this day. It was never an ambition of his to fulfill this role. Kakashi would rather command from the field, as a fellow soldier, than from behind some reserved desk, like a king, any day, and a few expensively tailored, silk-lined robes would never convince him otherwise.  
'I like them.'  
Kakashi stood, setting the chest and his new attire down on his coffee table. He would have to dig through his drawers for a pair of uniform pants, a mask and some undergarments, but it would seem that the rest of his wardrobe had already been decided for him. With an air of annoyance, he discarded of his towel, tossing it over the back of his couch. The jounin turned heel and headed towards his bedroom.  
He would have to trust in his assistant's taste in style.

"We wish you well, Team Ouda. You are free to go now, as the Rokudaime has dismissed you."  
Team Ouda's leader regarded the panel's reporter with a curt nod, bowing deeply before the Hokage.  
"Thank you, Hokage-sama," he said, his eyes turned towards the floor. The Hokage looked on, partially disinterested, but returned the man's gesture with a nod of approval. The four-man cell performed their final bows before parting. Kakashi was beginning to lose count of the many times he'd seen a team leave this room, but he was envious that he couldn't do the same.  
The Shinobi Committee panel had assembled by midmorning, just as Utatane threatened. Made up of eleven individuals: three board members, three elders, two commanding officers, one lord, one kage, and one lower level representative, the panel went about publicly verifying high profile missions, including a number of S-Class missions, A-Class missions, and an assortment of important reconnaissance deployments meant to eventually lead to S and A-Class assignments.  
The reporter, an elected board member, called out the arriving team while the other board members took note of it. Sometimes a commanding officer or an elder would have a few things to say, but it was the Hokage's job to relay the objectives and provide moral support. Finally, the lower level representative took thorough notes and could offer a few words, if they were daring, and Kakashi wished for such audacity. Regardless, the information the lower level representative jotted down would eventually go to both the Hokage and into public records.  
Kakashi gave his words and reassured his men but found that he couldn't be bothered with any of this.  
Gaining the attention of the chunin sitting beside him concerned him more than the hours it took publicly announcing already documented assignments. The Rokudaime's gaze shifted to his right, discreetly eyeing the stubbornly silent sensei for the umpteenth time. Still, Iruka never once glanced back at him. He never once said a word to him, not even before the proceedings began. He simply went about his duties, keeping his head down while he took notes.  
Kakashi looked up, feeling the stern glare of someone else burn into his masked face. He leaned forward, catching Utatane's beady-eyed stare from a few seats off.  
"Excellent," The daimyo cooed, sitting directly to Kakashi's left. "It's been some time since I've paid witness to such smooth proceedings." With a resounding thud, the double doors closed behind Team Ouda.  
Kakashi looked Iruka's way once more, gazing intensely beneath the plane black headband wrapped around his brow. "It pleases me that you are happy with the proceedings, Lord Shijimi," he sighed, not once taking his eye off the mute Academy sensei.  
"Next on our roster," called the reporter, standing directly from Iruka's right side, "is a peace venture. An S-Class, in rank: Team 7 of Konoha, to establish communication and alliance with the Hidden Rain."  
The board member reseated himself, setting his roster back down against the table. Unbeknownst to Kakashi, his half-lidded stare had fixed itself upon the man, staring him down with shock and disbelief.  
"No," he breathed.  
The panel looked to the masked man, collectively confused.  
"I beg your pardon, Kakashi-sama?" the reporter asked, but it was already too late. Kakashi heard the Anbu guards stationed in the hallway make way for an approaching team. He heard the rustle of a door handle and, soon after, saw it turn. He looked to the rest of the panel, his visible eye showing composure but wanting nothing more than to question these turns of events. The Committee was not similarly troubled, as the team pronounced was no more significant than the last. He spotted Lady Utatane, Elder Mitokado, and Elder Hurasu, however, all three of whom sat with a look of tranquility etched upon their faces.  
At last, he looked to Iruka, who closely resembled the apprehension he felt. Still, the chunin refused to look his way. He kept his wide brown eyes fixed downwards. The palms of his hands sat flat against the table, shaking. Kakashi noticed a tremble run through the chunin, one so subtle that only he could see it.  
Iruka understood the way he understood, of course, and knew that this had to be a mistake.  
"Team 7, please enter!" The doors opened. Kakashi looked to Iruka again, but his anxious stare had already shot across the room. He looked dejected to Kakashi's discerning eye, but the jounin supposed the feeling was appropriate. Iruka knew better than anyone did how this would affect certain members of Team 7. Kakashi was only surprised that the headstrong chunin hadn't yet objected with passionate rage. Instead, Iruka remained reserved, acting no more expectant than the rest of the panel.  
Kakashi set sight on the three individuals who entered the room. Having spent a fair amount of time with each, he could detect their person based on the smallest details, like their scent and the way in which they carried their weight. Sakura entered first, and Kakashi eventually acknowledged her with a short nod. The Kunoichi donned the standard issue flak jacket of a chunin; one the jounin often saw her wear, since the war. Then there was Sai, standing beside her, also wearing his flak jacket, and Kakashi acknowledged him as well.  
"Ah, this is your team," Lord Shijimi hummed, leaning close. "Is this not true, Kakashi-sama?"  
Kakashi grunted his confirmation. Sakura and Sai came forward, until the two stood at the center of the room. After the dozens of teams to come before him, the surrealism of sitting on the Committee and not standing before it had long since disappeared, but to see his own team…it was strangely peculiar.  
"Kakashi-sama," Sakura said, almost timidly, before bowing. The uncertainty in her voice came from being here to begin, Kakashi believed, certainly not from facing him as a leader. Sai felt the same way, no doubt, as he stood in an unusually standoffish manner.  
"Kakashi-sama," he said as well, taking his bow.  
Kakashi nodded to them both, still unable to speak. That's when the third of their party stepped forward, flanking Sakura's other side. As Kakashi had sensed, it was not his blonde haired charge but a pale man with short brown hair and pitch black eyes. Yamato appeared, wearing his signature full-face head protector. Iruka's hands slipped away from the edge of his sight, the Hokage noticed, gripping at the sleeves of the chunin's arms instead. Kakashi looked between the two, Iruka's weary brown eyes and Yamato's expressionless stare, before narrowing his gaze upon the latter.  
"Kakashi-sama," Yamato greeted, bowing as well.  
"Yamato-san," Kakashi murmured, speaking at last. "This is a mistake."  
The Committee exploded with whispers of bewilderment.  
"K-Kakashi-sama…!" The reporter gasped, addressing the Rokudaime's stern stare. "I-I don't understand the confusion. It says right on this page that Team 7 was called for duty—"  
"Then your pages were ill constructed, Koizuma-san," Kakashi stated stiffly, looking passed the chunin who would not dare look at him. "No such call was ordered." He looked back towards Team 7, his gaze turning cold. "This assignment is premature, I assure you."  
"But Hokage-sama…" Elder Mitokado leaned forward, gracing Kakashi's sight. "Was it not you who demanded negotiations with Amegakure?" He paused to readjust the glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "You were adamant about aiding them in their time of need."  
"Yes, yes!" Hurasu grumbled, snorting haughtily. "You seemed to think we owed them a debt," he snarled, "and you had all of us quite convinced that peace would come from forming an alliance with these…people," the elder wheezed, smiling a beady-eyed smile. "So we of the Council discussed the details and ramifications and ordered the mission. Just as you said we should."  
"Yes, but," no, Kakashi thought. He looked to Hurasu, keeping to his calm and collected state. "Team 7 is inactive, at this point and time, and cannot be called for duty," he replied coolly.  
"Oh, but they are active, Kakashi," Utatane chimed in, leaning forward as well. Kakashi could see all three elders now, the bane of his existence. "In fact, the records show that it was you who personally authorized Team 7's reinstitution. I have the records here," she mentioned, lifting the papers in her hands, "and your signature is on every page." That couldn't be right, Kakashi knew. Of the teams he approved this week, Team 7 had not been among them. Furthermore, had Team 7 come across his desk, he would have never renewed their status to active duty. He was not so thoughtless as to assign missions to a team still clearly in the process of recuperation.  
He would never do something so cruel…especially to Naruto.  
Kakashi settled back into his chair, looking to his team. It was apparent that the three of its members here today didn't know what to believed. Considering the heated glaze in Sakura's green eyes, he suspected the pink haired chunin thought that he was partially to blame, if not entirely. Her once timid state had grown defiant, and she stood with more confidence. Sai, as always, looked strapped for an emotion. Eventually, his expression settled on discontent, though it did not come through as clearly as Sakura's. Only Yamato kept a semblance of professionalism, his many years and experience having taught him how useless emotions were when it came to dealing with your superiors. Kakashi didn't know why, but Yamato's composed demeanor irked him, nonetheless.  
"Sakura…" His voice sounded so subdued that the jounin almost hadn't heard it. Kakashi looked to Iruka, just as Team 7 and the rest of the panel did. The chunin was no longer trembling, but the grief in his eyes remained strong.  
"Iruka-sensei," Sakura responded softly, giving the man a gentle nod.  
"Sakura, where is Naruto?" Kakashi had wondered the same thing but deemed his apparent involvement a more grating curiosity. It would be Iruka, of course, to ask of Naruto's whereabouts, because he was concerned for his former student. Kakashi would have been more concerned had Naruto showed up.  
"We're not sure," Sakura answered, looking to her team with a renewed sense of uncertainty. "I spoke with him a few days ago, about the notice, but he dismissed it. And when we were assigned a mission, he didn't get back with any of us."  
"I say," Lord Shijimi breathed, humorously surprised. "Are you saying there's a team member missing…? Of course! Uzumaki Naruto, if I'm not mistaken. He is on your team," the daimyo said, smiling graciously at Kakashi.  
"Yes," Koizuma confirmed, checking his roster. "Uzumaki Naruto is a member of Team 7 but has, apparently, decided not to show."  
"What a shock," Utatane sighed in one shallow breath. "Wouldn't you agree, Kakashi-sama?"  
"It's not a very honorable trait, in a Shinobi," Mitokado mentioned.  
"Agreed," Hurasu murmured. "Some Hokage he would have made…"  
"I move to postpone this mission. A new team will be assigned, upon a later date," Kakashi stated firmly, ignoring a chorus scoffs and disbelieving mutters. He could no longer conceal the resentment in his tone but hoped to control his furrowed brow, as he clasped his hands together, gripping at the iron plates of his gloves.  
"Prosperous," Hurasu sniffed.  
"Kakashi-sama," Yamato stepped forward, breaking from his stance. "I respectfully object to this decision," he said.  
"Mm?" Kakashi turned on Yamato, his gaze growing narrowed once more. "It's hardly up for debate, Yamato-san. This mission was structured with a four-man team in mind, and, since you're short one man, Team 7 can't fulfill this requirement. In light of Naruto's absence, this team has no choice but to forfeit its services."  
"Kakashi-sama does make a fine point," Koizuma said, his fellow board members concurring with short grunts.  
Yamato frowned, staring at his senpai.  
"Considering the circumstances, I think we can overlook the requirements just this once," he said, scanning the rest of the panel. Kakashi couldn't help the subtle twitch at the corners of his lips, when the captain's gaze fell upon his chunin aide.  
"Maa, requirements are put in place for a reason, Yamato-san. Otherwise, there would be no point to this exhausting system. Rules are rules and regulations are regulations, and we can't overlook them when the occasion suits us."  
Yamato stepped back, bemused, staring the Hokage down with disbelief. Kakashi didn't blame him, as a small part of him balked at hearing such things. "Rules and regulations are fine, but for someone like you to make that argument is something of a shock." The room fell into turbulent whispers. "Don't you agree, Kakashi-sama?"  
"Yamato-taichou," Sakura whispered, her eyes shifting nervously between the two men.  
"Someone like me," Kakashi uttered, his brow rising. "What are you implying?"  
"I mean nothing by it, Kakashi-sama," Yamato shot firmly. "I'm simply trying to make a case for my team. We were assigned a mission and intend to see it through. Our scheduled departure's not for another hour or so. Naruto is bound to show up, before then."  
"This is also my team," The Hokage stated lowly, his eye fixed on the other man. "I've known certain members for much longer than you have and can certainly speak for them, in regards of preparedness. If Naruto couldn't summon himself before this committee, then he's still unfit for duty." Kakashi looked to Sai and Sakura as well, knowing that his words were true. "You all are, in my opinion."  
"Teams do not complete missions based on opinion, Kakashi-sama. They do so, because their reputation shows that they can," Yamato retaliated.  
Kakashi glared.  
"You should know better than to argue with me the merits of an able fighter, Yamato."  
Yamato returned the glare.  
"I feel it necessary, when the living, breathing epitome of such an argument has abandoned his principles."  
Kakashi stood, his chair crashing back against the wall. The sudden impact sent a series of fidgets and jumps amongst the panel. Kakashi bowed his head, pacing his rising infuriation. His eye fell upon Iruka, whose downtrodden gaze remained fixed upon Yamato.  
"…This no longer amuses me," Kakashi said, speaking calmly. "Yamato-san… You've overstepped your bounds, with that statement. I am no more or no less the Shinobi that I was before being appointed to lead this village and I believed you of all people would know that."  
"I do," Yamato remarked, less tempered than before. "That's why I'm struggling to understand this indefinite suspension." He looked his senpai dead in the eye. "Team 7 should return to duty and service the village in the way that its members were trained to."  
"Your concerns have been acknowledged, but I reinforce the requirements with an understanding of what's best for my former students."  
"And I object, based on what's best for this team," Yamato challenged.  
Their heated exchange ended, giving way to a room that had long since grown silent. Kakashi panned the room, noting a certain reverence amid his colleagues' faces. His team, however, stood in a state of shock.  
Still standing, Kakashi's steely grey stare settled on his Anbu subordinate once more.  
"Is that it, then?" he hummed, but there was no humor in his tone. "You speak your words but disregard mine. Never forget that I'm Team 7's leader, Yamato-san, and, though a vital addition, you will never replace me," Kakashi spied thick brown locks; a signature ponytail, in the corner of his eye, "and I mean that in every regard."  
"Kakashi-sama!"  
Wide brown eyes… Kakashi had waited to see that intense stare for what seemed like an eternity, as they now looked to him almost pleadingly. After hours of suffering, however, it was something of a relief to hear Iruka finally address him, albeit in a disapproving, somewhat traumatized manner.  
"Iruka-sensei," he replied, his furrowed brow ebbing away. "Is there something you'd like to contribute?" Iruka glanced about the room, to the others sitting on the panel. Kakashi watched them as well, noting their dismissive stares.  
"Well," Iruka cleared his throat nervously. "I…I think you should reconsider Yamato-san's position, Kakashi-sama."  
"I wonder why," Kakashi muttered tightly, earning an instantaneous glare from the chunin.  
"Reinstating Team 7 really is in your former students' best interest," Iruka snapped, gaining a few judgmental stares. He looked towards Sakura and Sai, offering them both a brief nod. "A good reputation is needed for a promotion to Jounin, which can only be made through a consecutive completion of assignments. You know that yourself, Kakashi-sama…" The boldness in the chunin's tone trailed away, but his gaze remained firm.  
Kakashi didn't speak at first, considering Iruka's words. More than that, the jounin hoped to suspend this moment. The monotony of that morning seemed to have finally taken its leave, and Kakashi gladly lost sight of the panel, those dull faces staring back at him. Sakura, Sai, and Yamato faded away too, as he focused solely on the chunin sensei staring up at him. Iruka's gaze never wavered, never looked away, and it was a refreshing change. Even if Kakashi saw only trepidation, it was better than to see nothing at all.  
"…What about Naruto, Iruka-sensei."  
Iruka hesitated, noticeably stunted, and it surprised Kakashi to see confliction upon the chunin's brow. When it came to their shared charge, he thought the answer would have been obvious. But Iruka took his time, and it was a trying pleasure for the captivated Hokage.  
"I also feel that this is in Naruto's best interest," Iruka managed, his gaze faltering. "There's no other way he can realize his dreams, otherwise." Iruka's lukewarm eyes met Kakashi's cool silver orb once more. "He'll move on, Kakashi-sama."  
Kakashi nodded, frowning. "I see…"  
The Committee returned; granted, not by Kakashi's will.  
A low hum resonated throughout the room, beating against the walls. Kakashi sensed a familiar signature, one burning with unadulterated rage as it speedily approached. An unmistakable chakra once greater than any chakra Kakashi had known for some time. Although, it'd been waning in recent months and, since the Fourth Great Shinobi World War, had never truly been the same. Still, its ferocity could bring down a legion of enemy assault, an impressive characteristic given its origin. There was a time when Kakashi believed such an uncontrollable surge of chakra would go to waste, with its owner only capable of using it for rapid recuperation—involuntarily, at that.  
Now this very same chakra threatened to strip away the structural integrity of this entire building, a fact Kakashi found quite exhilarating.  
"What was that?" asked Shizuto-san, the board member sitting beside Koizumi. He looked frantically towards his fellow colleagues, as they did the same.  
"It's nothing," Hurasu snarled pompously, throwing his snout of a nose in the air.  
"Maa…It's very much something, Elder Hurasu," Kakashi drawled, staring at the double doors. Everyone followed his gaze, looking to the doors as well. What was fast approaching had now arrived, exchanging words with the Anbu guards outside.  
"…I said let me through, damn it!"  
"The panel is seeing to another party. You'll have to wait your turn."  
"That is my fucking party! Now let me through!"  
Naruto barged in, flinging both doors wide open, the furious air that accompanied him being no real surprise. Face flushed and eyes filled with rage, the young man stomped into the room, suffocating its occupants with an all-encompassing energy.  
"N-Naruto!" Sakura managed, her green eyes growing wide with worry. Sai and Yamato turned, appearing more or less troubled by their teammate's impromptu appearance. Naruto, however, spared his team not a glance. Those dynamic blue eyes of his had latched on to one person, and that person was the Hokage.  
"Naruto," Iruka breathed just above a whisper, smiling weakly. "You showed up—"  
"How dare you."  
The room looked to the Rokudaime, waiting for his response. Kakashi's eye grew wide, however, as he stood at a loss for words.  
"I said how dare you!" Naruto growled, seething. He marched forward, a way made for him when his team stepped to the side. He stood before the panel, wearing his signature orange and black jumpsuit suited to his style and his style only. His whiskered cheeks stretched as he snarled, while his hands balled into two shaking fists.  
Kakashi looked on, more intrigued than disturbed. He could not say the same for his fellow committee members, who looked crossed between fright and bewilderment. As for his assistant, Iruka had settled down into seat, taken aback by the furious young man.  
"Ne, Naruto…" Kakashi began. "Forgive me—I don't read minds. What offense did I dare to make?"  
"You know what you did!" Naruto shouted back, glaring at his jounin sensei. "I'm not an idiot! You've been limiting my access to Sasuke!" The name brought a wave of chaotic noise from amongst the table. Kakashi ignored them, as did Naruto and the rest of Team 7. The chunin beside him sunk, producing a low whimper from the back of his throat. Still, when Iruka looked to him, Kakashi knew that he had the younger man's much appreciated support. "You placed your own lapdog guards on his block, and now they tell me I can't see him!"  
"Is it that you can't see him, Naruto, or that you can't see him for as long as you would like?"  
"Uchiha…Uchiha Sasuke?" Lord Shijimi exclaimed, throwing open his elaborate fan excitedly. "Was he not once a son of Konohagakure? Did he not betray us and aid Akatsuki in attacking this village?" He looked to Kakashi, horror in his round eyes.  
"The very same, my Lord," Mitokado answered, frowning with contempt. Utatane looked on, quiet disapproval in her beady stare. "His execution date is pending."  
"This is insane!" Hurasu threw a beefy fist against the table, causing it to quake. "These proceedings have been sullied with argument and defiance! Kakashi, you must put an end to these outbursts! They are both inappropriate and unsightly!"  
"You're more than welcome to leave, Hurasu, if it bothers you," Kakashi spoke smoothly, not caring to look the elder's way. He kept his eye trained on Naruto, sighing. "Is that all?"  
"No," Naruto sneered, shoving a fist into his pant pocket. "You know better than anyone what we went through, out there! Yet you abandon one of our own, in your own self-righteous way...! You might have given up on Sasuke, but I haven't!" Naruto's body shook, as he struggled to pull out a crumpled piece of paper. "I refuse to give up on Sasuke, and I won't leave here just because you order me to!" Violently, the blonde peeled open the paper, the remains of a notification scroll, and chucked it to the floor.  
Kakashi peered downwards, identifying the crumpled remains for what it was. He'd seen plenty, thousands of these notices. When hospitalized as often as he was, you began to recognize them instantly. Still, this didn't explain why Team 7 had received one.  
"It's true," Kakashi shrugged, gazing back at Naruto. "I did place a restraint on your visitation rights, and I switched out the guards but for reasons beyond your relevance."  
"Kakashi-sensei…?" Sakura dropped a trembling hand from her mouth, her face alight with curiosity. Kakashi did not respond to her silent inquiry, however.  
"I did those things, where the Uchiha is concerned," he continued, ignoring Iruka's scolding glare. "I did not, however, authorize Team 7's reinstatement." Kakashi looked to his right. "I believe a mistake has been made."  
"Liar!" Naruto hissed, pointing an accusing finger in Kakashi's direction. "It's your signature on that paper!" he shouted, looking frantically between Kakashi and the notice. "Those are your words, the words of a backstabber! Own up to your betrayal, you son of a bitch!"  
"NARUTO!"  
The table quaked again, tilting forward teasingly. The Committee froze with shock, as the Hokage's subdued, soft-spoken, and unsuspecting aide slammed his hands against the table. A few of them jumped even, when the enraged chunin shot from his seat. Iruka stood, his shoulders hunched as he growled. Kakashi felt him, the sudden wrath bellowing within him, nearly trumping the rage of his former student.  
"That's enough!" Iruka fumed, staring Naruto down with anger and disappointment. Naruto's temper faltered, looking pitifully to his pre-genin sensei. "You know better than to behave like this, to address the Hokage in this way. Kakashi-sama has done nothing wrong! He's believed in you and has supported you, for years, and has done more for you and Sasuke than you will ever know!" The chunin roared, throwing down another fist. "Kakashi-sama does not have to explain himself to you!"  
Naruto bowed his head, spiky blonde locks falling forward.  
"Do I make myself clear?"  
"…Yes, Iruka-sensei," Naruto mumbled, resentfully. The young man grew faint with silence, standing almost dutifully before Iruka. It was impressive, Kakashi supposed, for those who did not know the bond the two shared. The panel watched with astonishment, amazed by the influence of a mere chunin sensei. But for Kakashi and his team, it was not uncommon to see Iruka reprimand Naruto, much in the way a father would reprimand his son.  
"Sit down, Iruka-sensei," Utatane demanded coarsely. "The Hokage does not need you to come to his defense. Hatake, tell this boy to cool his tongue, or he will be detained."  
"Y-yes, Lady Utatane…" Iruka reached back for his chair, his cheeks growing red with humiliation.  
"Iruka-sensei, you will remain standing," Kakashi barked, glaring at the elderly shrew. "Naruto," he turned to the younger man. "Like always, you charge into any given situation with a hot head. You're a loose cannon with no guidance, and you need to keep calm."  
"How can I be calm?" Naruto snapped back, his anger returning to him. "Why should I listen to anything you say?"  
Kakashi looked to the chunin still standing beside him, considering his words.  
"Maa… Naruto, you have turned what was a private dispute into a public affair. Any member of this panel could have you arrested for disrupting these proceedings." The jounin paused to scan both sides of the table. "I should hope that my associates will show you as much leniency as I have, but I couldn't stop them if I wanted to. Restrain yourself—if not for this panel, than for your team and the people here you do respect."  
"…"  
Naruto heeded the Hokage's words and backed down, but Kakashi saw something in his blue eyes that he would never forget.  
BOOM.   
The table rattled once more, papers flying from its surface this time. It was a continuous quake, not caused by anyone or anything currently occupying the room. Kakashi frowned, looking to Naruto and Team 7, before searching the length of the table. It wasn't just him, who shook, who saw the scrolls on the walls topple back and forth and heard the rippled sound of an explosion.  
"What the hell was that?" Koizumi asked, his eyes darting about the room.  
"It definitely wasn't nothing!" Shizuto exclaimed.  
"Oh my!" Lord Shijimi stood from his chair, gliding towards the windows. The rest of the panel rose from their seats as well, following in pursuit. They soon saw what the daimyo saw, smoke billowing in the distance. "Kakashi-sama, the village is being attacked!"  
"What?"  
"Oh no…!"  
The two commanding offices rushed to Lord Shijimi's side, ushering the daimyo away from the windows.  
"Come on sir. We must get you to a safe place."  
"This is a safe place," Kakashi corrected. "Lord Shijimi stays here." The jounin marched over to the windows in a dignified stride, flanked by Iruka and an equally curious Team 7. Even Naruto, his body still racked with rage, rushed to the south side of the room. Everyone grew silent, with the exception of a few nervous whispers, giving way to a cry of chaos coming from the streets of the village.  
The explosion, however, occurred only once, as far as Kakashi could see.  
"I heard it only once," Yamato said.  
"So it would seem," Kakashi droned gravely, but it was difficult to confirm when a sea of rising ash blanketed the sky. Kakashi pressed a hand against the glass, measuring the distance of each smoke column with the width of his fingers. They were a dozen miles off from one another, more or less, the closest being just outside the village perimeters.  
"Kakashi-sama, what do we do?"  
Kakashi turned to Katsuo-san, a commanding officer to Intelligence.  
"Katsuo-san, notify village security. We're on high alert."  
"What about the threat?"  
"The threat is not within the limits of Konoha, but it is within proximity."  
"If I may ask, sir, how you can tell?"  
Kakashi laid eye on the closest column once more, glaring. "It's crossfire," he answered, without answering the question. "It's a greeting, but the enemy has no intention of approaching. I fear their course of action is, by far, worse than what I had initially expected."  
"Hokage-sama!" For a second time that day, the double doors bursts open and slammed shut with a harsh thud. The Hokage ripped his gaze away from the distant chaos of smoke and debris, addressing the newcomer. "You come with information?" he asked, eyeing his subordinate, a petite redhead.  
"Yes sir!" she said urgently, taking a short bow. "Michi-san, sir, dispatched by reconnaissance task force, Squad 1. Mitarashi-san has sent me personally, to relay what has taken place."  
"The village is under attack—we can see that!" Hurasu bellowed.  
"No sir!" Michi-san shook her head fervently. "The village has not been attacked, but…" Anko's messenger trailed off, the obvious shock in her eyes also rendering her silent.  
"But," Kakashi urged, approaching her. "Relay the message, Michi-san."  
"Yes sir." Michi-san gave another uneasy bow, looking past the Rokudaime to the many eyes staring back at her. "Hokage-sama," she nodded, "Board and Council members…Lord Shijimi—"  
"Speak, woman!"  
"Hurasu..." Utatane chided. "Well go on, Michi-san. Speak."  
"Right," the messenger breathed, composing herself. "Konohagakure is safe, but…Nakamura was attacked, as well as three other villages surrounding the Hidden Leaf. One of which has been almost entirely destroyed."  
Kakashi's eye bulged with fear.  
"Which village?" he asked.  
"The Sato village," Michi-san replied, looking solemnly to the floor. "Mitarashi-san is there now, fending off what remains of the threat."  
"And what is the threat, at this moment?"  
"It's difficult to say, Hokage-sama. No matter how many we defeat, more and more keep coming," she admitted despairingly. "They're shrouded in white robes, their faces covered, and we have yet to understand where they're coming from. Still, they advance, and now Mitarashi-san and Morino-san's joint forces are battling them!"  
"Battling who?" Officer Katsuo-san asked, his thick black brow furrowing. "Do they have a name?"  
"No," Kakashi replied, gaining wide-eyed stares from everyone in the room. "They won't have a name," he explained, staring out towards the blackening sky, "because they work en masse. They're Madara followers who go on, working under someone they believe to be his second-in-command." The jounin looked to Katsuo-san, nodding. "Their leader has ensured that they are loyal, even well after death."  
"Yeah, but who?"  
"It doesn't matter who," Yamada-san, a commanding officer of the Anbu Interrogation Taskforce, growled. She turned towards Kakashi, crossing her arms. "Hokage-sama, what is to be done?"  
Kakashi sighed but kept his poise, regarding Anko's timid messenger.  
"Michi-san."  
"Ah, yes sir."  
"I suspect Mitarashi-san and Morino-san's joint forces are in need of assistance."  
"Yes sir," she nodded. "They were prepared for an attempted attack but on Konoha alone. We were not prepared to defend and assist four villages simultaneously!"  
"No explanation is needed," Kakashi excused her. "Yamada-san," he turned to the battle-ready woman. "You will follow Katsuo-san and relay this information to every commanding officer. I want every capable ninja called to duty and assigned to retrieval, medical, and battle teams." The jounin looked to Yamada and Katsuo both, growling, "Konohagakure will see to it that this threat does not reach our borders and that it is maintained before more harm can be done!"  
"Yes sir!"  
"Yes, Hokage-sama!"  
"Go!"  
Anbu guards filtered in, just as Katsuo-san and Yamada-san disappeared in a flurry of leaves. They circumnavigated Michi-san, bringing the Board members, the Elders, and Lord Shijimi to the center of the room.  
"Kakashi-senpai." Kakashi looked to Yamato, noting the determined stare in his subordinate's eyes. "We should go," he continued, looking to the rest of Team 7.  
"You should," Kakashi agreed with earnest. "Sakura, I expect you to join a medical squad. Your healing prowess is unmatched, and it would be a benefit to have a strong combat fighter amongst those protecting the injured."  
"Yes, Kakashi-sensei," Sakura replied.  
"Sai, assist Anko in surveillance. Take to the skies."  
"Yes sir," Sai nodded.  
Kakashi's half-lidded stare shifted between Yamato and Naruto, considering them both. Given Yamato's wood yielding capabilities, he'd do well to obstruct and detain the enemy whenever possible. Additionally, the captain's tracking abilities were second to none, with the exception of Anko, perhaps. As for Naruto… Kakashi's silver orb stared straight into those blue pools. They were quite reminiscent of the Yellow Flash, a fact that was never once lost on the jounin.  
The Rokudaime saw the same resolve, the same perpetual determination as the Yondaime.  
"Yamato."  
"Kakashi-senpai."  
"I don't have to tell you what needs to be done. You know."  
"Hai." Yamato turned to Sakura and Sai. "Let's go." Fortitude trumped their curiosity and fear. They knew only what was asked of them, to protect the Hidden Leaf, and Kakashi watched them leave with growing acceptance of that fact.  
"Mm… Will you go, Naruto?" he asked, having kept the lingering blonde in his peripheral sight.  
"…That's a stupid question." Kakashi's half-lidded eye grew wide, looking to his charge. Naruto looked away, a stubborn expression gracing his whiskered face. "My home is in danger…and I'm a capable ninja."  
"Ma, and then some," Kakashi hummed.  
"Iruka-sensei," Naruto said, turning towards his chunin sensei. He gave the older man a thin-lipped smile and a stiff nod. Iruka smiled back, sadness in his eyes. "Mind treating me to a bowl of ramen, after this?"  
"If you give your best, I don't see why not."  
"Hehe," Naruto snickered weakly. He winked and headed off, racing after his departed team. Kakashi watched him go, before turning his attention to the Council and Board members held at the center of the room.  
"I suspect you had prior knowledge of this attack, Kakashi-sama?"  
"What would make you say that, Lady Utatane?"  
Utatane frowned.  
"You seem unusually at ease with what's happening to this village."  
"It's not happening to this village, Lady Utatane," he drawled. "It's happening to the surrounding villages, and that I did not anticipate. However, if it's my job to contain and control the situation, then I will do so with a cool head."  
"I commend you, in that attempt."  
"Thank you." Kakashi looked to the Anbu guards. "I want a full search through Konoha. Bring the villagers to the mountain dwellings and stand guard. Whatever manpower is left will head out to the village in need of the highest priority."  
"Hai, Hokage-sama!" A few Anbu disappeared while a few more stayed behind, ushering members of the panel from the room.  
Kakashi remained in one place, growing increasingly detached.  
It was an unusual position to be in, his troubled mind thought. True, he was used to being a leader. Because of his reputation, his abilities and experience, the role most often given to him was one that required leading from behind the scenes. Even while behind the scenes, however, there was never a situation where his presence wasn't entirely unnecessary… like now.  
It never once occurred to Kakashi what a kage did during times of crisis, except stand aside while watching others carry out their orders.  
As far as fighting went, a kage's involvement was as unlikely as a Hidden Shinobi village completely safe from harm.  
"Hold on," Koizuma rushed back towards the table, collecting his papers. "Someone should have evidence of today's proceedings…just in case."  
"Take mine as well..."  
"That's quite fine, Iruka-sensei."  
"Thank you, Koizuma-san."  
Iruka appeared as a passing blur, and time stood still. Kakashi froze as well, listening to the pulsing thud from within his chest drown out all other sounds. A chill ran up his spine, as he felt submerged in cold dread. The sensation was instantaneous and disappeared just as suddenly, when a hand, one much like his own, clasped itself around the warm, tan wrist of another.  
Time resumed as it was, and a disgruntled chunin stumbled back at normal speed.  
"What the— Kakashi-sama…?"  
"Mm…Where do you think you're going?" Kakashi inquired, eyeing Iruka.  
"Isn't it obvious?" The chunin frowned, pulling his wrist from Kakashi's grip. "I'm going to join a squad."  
"That won't be necessary."  
"You gave the order, Kakashi-sama: every capable ninja. Well, I'm as capable as anyone else, and it's my duty to help protect the village in any way that I can."  
"No, your duty is to stay here," Kakashi corrected, "with me."  
"Kakashi-sama—"  
"Are you my assistant or not?"  
"Yes, but…"  
"Let him go, Kakashi-sama," Lady Utatane voiced. Amongst the Committee, she had dismissed the Anbu and had chosen to stay, as had Mitokado. Kakashi glared. Of all those to stay behind, he thought, it had to be Elder Mitokado and Lady Utatane. "Close the doors," she ordered the Anbu guards.  
"Yes, Lady Utatane."  
The doors closed behind them.  
"Kakashi-sama," she began, "you have a firm grasp on the situation. You've proven that. Regardless, Mitokado-san and I will follow you to the Hokage balcony. From there you will guide the men, as it is expected of you to relay information and further your orders." She paused, sparing Iruka a glance. "Iruka-sensei is, indeed, a capable ninja. He should be out there, offering his strength on the field."  
"Lady Utatane is correct," Mitokado chimed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Iruka-sensei, you may go."  
"Yes, Elder Mitokado," Iruka bowed. He gave Kakashi one final glance, a fleeting look the jounin couldn't bear to return. When Iruka passed by the elders, however, Kakashi found himself unable to gaze anywhere but the chunin's way. Even when the double doors closed behind him, the jounin's gaze remained fixed in that direction.  
"Can you hear that, Kakashi-sama?" Mitokado asked, approaching him. The elder was referring to the commotion from outside, the panicked cries of villagers preparing themselves for the worst.  
"Yes. I hear them," he said, looking towards the blackening outdoors.  
"You will see to them," Utatane said. "We must retire to the balcony now."  
"I have a better idea." Kakashi turned on his heel, strolling past the two. He made it to the doors, before the elders caught up with him.  
"Where are you going?" Mitokado asked.  
"A place where I can be of better use."  
"That's here, right here! In this building, on that balcony!" The elder barked. "This is the role of the Hokage, Kakashi-sama. Granted, you are handling your first emergency quite well, and it is clear that we have not misplaced our faith in you, but you must recognize that there are procedures you adhere to, as our leading public figure."  
Kakashi ignored the elder, throwing the double doors open.  
"Mitokado-san is right. Whatever you've got planned, Kakashi, it doesn't compare to the importance of you being on that balcony."  
"Balcony? What balcony is that then?" Kakashi hummed, continuing down the hall. To his annoyance, the elders followed in pursuit. "Where I'm going is most important, I assure you."  
"Where is that then?" Mitokado snapped.  
Kakashi slowed until his steps came to a halt.  
"I'm going to Nakamura," he said. "I'll keep an open channel, from there. Given its close proximity, it's where the enemy will, most likely, further their advancements," he turned around, his steely gaze burning into the two elders. "That is, if it's their intention to pursue a full-fledge attack against us."  
"What makes you so sure that that's not their intention?" Mitokado scoffed.  
"…I have a hunch."  
"A hunch he says!" Mitokado growled. "Had I known the Rokudaime dealt in hunches, I would have cowered behind the safety of Anbu with my tail between my legs, just as Hurasu did!"  
"There's still time," Kakashi shrugged.  
"Now listen here, Kakashi." Mitokado pointed a shaking finger in the masked man's face. "You will stay behind. Under these circumstances, being a leader does not mean compensating for the shortcomings of your comrades. As Hokage you lead, and you fight only when a threat presence itself to you. Only then do you grace the battlefield. Do you understand?"  
"No," Kakashi frowned, his tone growing venomously skeptic. "No, I don't understand. Holding the Hokage behind is not a strategy that applies to our current situation. A hidden village on the verge of full recovery should respond to enemy attack with all of its strength, including the Hokage. A demonstration of power is the only way to save face and, considering that's all the Council is concerned about, my decision should please you."  
Kakashi turned, heading towards the stairwell. On any other occasion, he would've simply jutsued away. As it was, he had every intention on engaging in combat, so he needed to reserve his chakra for the field.  
The jounin stopped, midway down the staircase, when he realized the elders still had every intention on following him.  
"Ne… Perhaps I must put this in words you two will understand," he muttered, gazing upon them for what he hoped would be the last time.  
They froze at the top of the staircase, their wrinkled brows furrowing down upon him, and Kakashi would have been amused if he wasn't already fed-up with their mere presence.  
"Elder Mitokado, Lady Utatane…I'm going to do whatever it is that I do, and the two of you will not interfere. You will object and disapprove, and I will continue to not care. You'll go on, as you do, trying to pull the strings behind the scenes, as it were. The hilarity of it all is that you, the Council, couldn't be more detached from the reality of Shinobi life, and what knowledge of battle you once knew is forever lost beneath decades of bureaucratic nonsense."  
Utatane and Mitokado looked to one another.  
"You're not part of the solution—you're part of the problem, so stay out of my way. I will not join you, on the Hokage balcony. I do not intend to stand idly by, watching my men fend from a distance. I especially do not intend to have you two flanking my sides wherever I go, feeding me suggestions. I told you once before," the jounin growled, "I'm not your errand boy."  
With that, the Hokage turned once more, proceeding down the staircase.  
"…What about rules and regulations, Kakashi? Was that not your case, before Team 7?" Mitokado sneered.  
"There's no law that binds me to undesirable places…or people, for that matter," Kakashi threw over his shoulder, continuing down the stairwell. He spotted a few Anbu troops rounding up villagers, as he glanced through passing windows.  
"This isn't about us…not really is it?" He heard Utatane say, but Kakashi didn't want to spare the woman another second, so much as another glance. "This is about Iruka-sensei."  
Kakashi froze, with his hand pressed against the stairwell wall.  
"That's what this is about…this rebellion?"  
"That chunin sensei," Mitokado gasped obnoxiously. "I'm not surprised. He's been a bad influence, I take it…should have known as such, when he dared to mouth off to a council member."  
"Punishing me will, in no way, help defend Konoha, Kakashi," Utatane breathed.  
Kakashi could no longer resist the urge to look at them, those elders that enraged him so. He turned at the bottom of the staircase, directing a cold stare their way.  
"To tell you the truth," Utatane continued, "what I said yesterday was necessary. The…companionship you share with Umino-san is ill fitted for a Hokage of the Hidden Leaf. You must come to terms with this fact," she frowned.  
"That's right," Mitokado supplied, though a layer of confusion had settled against his haughty expression. "He belongs on the field, dying for his village, while you belong here, leading it." He looked to his fellow council member, offering Utatane a supportive nod, one the elderly woman did not acknowledge.  
The Hokage gazed between the two and scoffed, the corners of his lips, again, twitching uncontrollably.  
"…Go to hell." Kakashi walked away, his new robes billowing behind him.  
The elders did not follow him.  
Chapter Twenty Three  
"Get down!"  
Kakashi shouted the order, just as a horde of weapons came pelting down the fields of Nakamura. He witnessed pockets of Leaf Shinobi duck for cover, while many more succumbed to the oncoming onslaught.  
He watched it all, dressed in the garbs of a Hokage but with the mentality of a soldier, taking cover and regrouping with the closest fleet of his men. Their enemy was a rare assortment of ninja whose only affiliation seemed to be the mass chaos they created. They wielded weapons and skills of many kinds, with no real signature. Decked in black uniforms and head wraps, traditional Shinobi garbs, while wearing false masks on their faces, they charged across the appointed battlefield like fiendish killing machines. Kakashi presided over his men but attacked right alongside them, hoping to hinder further advancement from their nameless, faceless threat.  
"Kakashi-sama!" Nara Shikaku touched down beside the Rokudaime, rising from the disturbed ground.  
Kakashi acknowledged him with a firm nod but kept his eyes on the field. His Sharingan caught sight of Leaf ninja doing their best to usher out the inhabiting villagers, treat the injured, and carry the dead. Kakashi and Shikaku shared a glance, when a member of the enemy separated from a cluster and charged the two with a lengthy sword.  
"I'll handle this," Shikaku growled, turning towards their attacker. Regardless, Kakashi took a defensive stance, on the lookout for assaults from every which direction. He found himself scanning the fields again, knowing that he'd see only what he'd been seeing for the last hour or so: defensive and offensive attacks, the green glow of medic-nin healing, and the swift movements of the retrieval squads assigned to this area. There was nothing else, not that he was searching, at all, for anything or anyone in particular. It was unprofessional to worry that somewhere, out there, in this village or the next, a certain chunin sensei might be in need of assistance.  
"Ma, he's all yours," Kakashi said but made sure to cover the jounin commander's back.  
Their attacker didn't concern the Hokage. He noticed an inexperienced handle on their weapon and that their form was off-balance. Kakashi knew that this particular follower would fall instantly to Shikaku's ability, he who was quite familiar with the craft of his clan.  
'Just as I expected,' Kakashi thought again. It was a matter of quantity, not quality, and the perpetrator behind these assaults did not try to hide this fact. He wanted to taunt the people who neighbored Konoha, who could not defend themselves— traumatize them, and give Konoha a reason to be vigilant and expect something far more threatening in the future.  
"Kage Shibari no Jutsu!" Dark shadows sprouted from Shikaku's feet like wild roots, racing across the ground and attaching themselves to the enemy. Their attacker stopped dead in their tracks but stumbled, just as Shikaku did, when a nearby explosion shook the ground. The Nara clansman regrouped, raising clasped hands into the air. The attacker did the same, growling and shaking violently in their restless attempts to break away. "Tough luck, kid," Shikaku breathed, raising the blade. "There's no way in hell you're escaping from this. Accept your fate."  
A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air, before the assailant collapsed in a pool of blood. Shikaku frowned, dispelling his control over their now lifeless body.  
"I'm tempted to look under that mask," the older man spoke bitterly. He turned towards the Hokage. "How old do you think that boy was?"  
"It doesn't matter," Kakashi said, staring at the bloodstained corpse. "He was an obvious tool who was toyed with, just as we're being toyed with now."  
"Inoichi-san tells me you have a pretty good idea of who's behind all this."  
"That I do."  
"Care to fill in the blanks then?" Shikaku grumbled, looking pointedly at the younger man.  
"…Kabuto," Kakashi replied simply, earning a skeptic glare from the older man.  
"Kabuto? Yakushi Kabuto?" Another explosion rattled the field, before a gust of smoke enveloped the two men. "Argh!" Shikaku cried out, shielding his eyes from a chemical agent. "This is no ordinary smoke bomb!"  
"It's not a smoke bomb!" Kakashi shot back, covering his normal eye. Despite the pain, Kakashi kept his Sharingan roving, scanning the particles of a highly potent genjutsu. "Kai!" he went to dispel it and Shikaku did the same, but it remained intact. "We'll have to stop it from its source," the jounin said, just as the impact of something sharp knocked the air out of his lungs.  
"Kakashi!"  
"I'm fine!" Kakashi growled, and he ignored the kunai now impaled below his left clavicle. It was apparent that whoever hit him had been aiming for his heart but hadn't the precision nor the competency to accomplish such a fatal wound. Nevertheless, the enemy's misaim enabled Kakashi to pinpoint their whereabouts, based on the trajectory, speed, and depth of the kunai. Kakashi held a growing spark of electricity in his hand and charged, blindly, ten feet to his left. The chirping buzz of the Chidori filled the air, accompanying the thick, imaginary smoke stinging his nostrils.  
"Hurry up!" Shikaku coughed. Not wanting to give away his position, Kakashi remained silent. The sound of flesh sizzling around his hand and the gurgling noises of a woman choking on her own blood soon drifted through his ears, while the smoke surrounding himself and the jounin commander cleared. They were, again, able to breathe. "That's much better."  
Kakashi pulled his hand from the lifeless being, watching the now deceased attacker fall to their knees.  
He turned, returning to Shikaku's side. The older man had knelt down on one knee, holding a fist over his mouth. Kakashi offered a helping hand, helping him to stand.  
"Thanks." Shikaku eyed the kunai impaled in the Hokage's chest, disgruntled. "Any plans on getting that looked at?"  
"It's not important right now." Keeping the kunai in his wound would have been a more effective approach to maintaining blood flow and prolonged exposure, but the weapon stuck out like a shiny thumb sore and would have obstructed his movements; so, Kakashi simply pulled it from his body, a trail of his blood dripping from its sharp blade.  
"What of the other villages?" Kakashi asked, flinging the weapon against the ground. "What's their status?"  
Shikaku patted himself down, wiping debris from his shoulders. "In the same shape, just about," he answered, staring at nearby crumbling buildings in dismay. "By all standards, the damage could be worse. But as my son would say," he offered Kakashi a grief-stricken glance, "all this destruction… is much too troublesome to justify."  
Kakashi agreed with a curt hum.  
"What of the Sato village?" he asked specifically, scanning the land once more. Slowly but surely, the battle was nearing its end. More and more of Kabuto's footmen were retreating, in their unexplained and seemingly unprompted attack. The jounin imagined that those Leaf Shinobi still standing would have many questions concerning what had just happened to their neighboring village men.  
"I've been personally informed by Mitarashi that the threat in Sato is under control. The majority of their people have been relocated to the mountain dwellings of Konoha."  
"Maa…" Kakashi raised a brow. "The majority?"  
"Well, we can't save everyone. Can we?" Shikaku grounded out. "In any case, some pillaging occurred but nothing of great value was taken. Sato's stocks and exports were not disturbed. Overall, the damage seems to be a psychological one. The people are, understandably, remembering the war that threatened our lands not but a few months ago."  
Kakashi nodded slowly, his brow furrowed with distress. "What of our men?" he spoke low.  
Shikaku looked to the younger man, frowning. "We'll know more, when we're able to regroup and recover. As it is, all forces have been directed to travel through Kimura, as it's the second safest route to Konoha, and to avoid Nishimura entirely." Shikaku rubbed at his temple. "That village was leveled almost entirely. Most of our retrieval teams are stationed there, going through the rubble and looking for survivors."  
"Nara-san!" A squad of eight appeared before the Hokage and the jounin commander, with their team captain in the lead. They bowed before Kakashi before turning their attention to Shikaku once more. "Nakamura has been reclaimed. The threat's receding, but we've alerted the other villages to be on the lookout."  
"Good." Shikaku nodded, turning to Kakashi. "What are your orders, Hokage-sama?"  
Kakashi eyed the eight-man squad. "Relay this to every soldier: avoid killing, at all cost. Our objective should be to obtain the enemy, so that we can bring them in for questioning."  
"Hai, sir."  
"You heard him," Shikaku said. "Relay the information, A-S-A-P!"  
Shikaku sent the squad off, and they were gone in the blink of an eye.  
"Eager, aren't they?" Kakashi sighed, watching as his men began taking immobilized attackers into custody. He took note of a few other squads helping to round up bodies, while a good number of Shinobi worked to put out explosion fires.  
"As a people, we desire peace," Shikaku mumbled. "As humans, we desire chaos. As Shinobi, we expect both."  
"Peace and its imminent death," Kakashi murmured.  
"It's a never-ending cycle. Luckily, we're always prepared for both. Still, does it surprise you that no one here has yet questioned the reason behind these attacks? Because it doesn't really matter, to your men…" the older jounin shrugged, offering Kakashi an encouraging nod. "They trust that their leader knows what he's doing and so fall in line accordingly."  
"How comforting," Kakashi sighed, earning a grim smile from the jounin commander.  
"You should be enthusiastic," Shikaku urged. "It means a great deal, to see the Rokudaime fighting alongside his men. You've probably gained greater respect in the last hour than any newly appointed kage has ever gained. Ibiki says he's tired of hearing the men praise you like doe-eyed school kids. 'Says he'll punish anyone who so much as utters your name in his presence."  
"You'd think all this combat would have placated him," Kakashi frowned. "I'm sure he'll set a great example for the men, when he ignores my orders not to kill whatever remains of the enemy."  
"Nah," Shikaku grumbled, scratching at his shoulder. "Not even his level of bloodlust would blind him to logic. The more survivors there are, the more people we have to interrogate, and he'll find it far more satisfying to torture his subjects than kill them."  
"Maa… Ever the masochist," Kakashi hummed.  
"A necessary evil, at times," Shikaku muttered, looking to the white masked corpses being dragged from the field. "They won't know their luck, if Inoichi-san ends up probing through their minds instead." He looked to the Hokage. "He's probably received your order, by now, and should be at headquarters, searching fresh minds for information."  
"Good."  
"I take it he's looking for Yakushi's whereabouts, then?"  
Kakashi nodded.  
The jounin commander eyed him up and down.  
"It's a shame he didn't die in the war. Yakushi Kabuto…" He shook his head, growling. "I don't believe it."  
"Believe it, Shikaku-san," Kakashi sighed.  
The two fell into a companionable silence, watching as battle squads quickly turned into retrieval squads. Kakashi sensed great disbelief coming from the man beside him. He then recalled how very few people knew that Orochimaru's former assistant was still at large. In their infinite wisdom, the Council had unanimously voted to cover up Konoha's war secrets, lest the other great Shinobi villages see the Leaf as a weak-link. Kakashi only knew that Kabuto was still alive, because he was one of a very select few who witnessed his escape.  
"So… I heard there was a bit of a disturbance, at today's committee meeting," Shikaku mentioned, staring at Kakashi with mild interest. "Care to fill me in on the specifics?"  
"Shikaku! There you are…" Akimichi Chouza had touched down, fists-first, before releasing his partial, multi-size technique. Like the two other men, a film of dirt and debris dusted over his battle-worn face while dry and drying blood caked parts of his battle-torn clothes. Whatever injuries he bore varied too much to determine his current condition.  
He noticed the Rokudaime and alarm settled upon his round face.  
"Kakashi…! You look terrible!" he gasped, pointing towards the jounin's shoulder. "You need a medic-team."  
"I'm fine," Kakashi said, repeating his earlier assurance. "You have business with Shikaku?"  
"Oh! Right…" the Akimichi looked to his longtime friend and teammate. "Squads in Sato want to use your shadow technique to take in prisoners."  
"Damn it, Shikamaru," Shikaku grumbled, gripping the back of his neck. "Of all the times to be on assignment…" he turned to Kakashi, with an air of aggravation about him. "Duty calls."  
"Ne, I won't hold it against you," Kakashi drawled.  
"I'm confused," Akimichi frowned, scanning the area. "Where are your guards, Kakashi-sama?"  
"I sent them away," Kakashi answered. "They're better use on the field, than watching over a fully capable ninja."  
"Fair enough," the chubby man breathed, offering Kakashi an encouraging smile. "Good to see you on the field, Kakashi."  
"…I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."  
Two members of the senior Ino-Shika-Chou trio disappeared, heading for the village south of Nakamura.  
Kakashi remained, watching over the battle-stricken village still. The middle village, known for its pleasant commoners and many hot springs, now lay in semi-ruins, and it would be Konoha's responsibility to return it to its former state. Establishments and houses alike crumbled, falling as rubble in pockets of smoke and dying embers. Most of the citizens had long since sought refuge in Konoha, while the Shinobi village worked to return order and sense to what seemed absolutely senseless.  
"Hokage-sama." An Anbu member appeared before Kakashi, already knelt down against the ground.  
"You may stand," Kakashi said, eyeing the masked soldier, "and you may speak."  
"Sir, Elder Mitokado and Lady Utatane have sent me. They would like to know when you intend on returning to the village."  
Of course, Kakashi mentally griped, the mere mention of the elders bringing a taste of bile to his mouth.  
"Tell them not to hold their breath."  
"Sir?"  
"You heard me," Kakashi narrowed his gaze. "Now go."  
"Y-yes sir."  
The Anbu went as quickly as he came, now with Kakashi's response in toe.  
"You're really trying to stick it to the man, aren't ya?"  
"Pakkun," Kakashi greeted, just as the small dog leapt onto his good shoulder. The pug found a familiar place against his neck, pawing lightly at the torn fabric of his robes.  
"You look awful, Kakashi," he grumbled. "You do know that, as Hokage, you ain't got to do much. Right?"  
"Yes, I'm well aware of that. Thank you, Pakkun," Kakashi replied in a cool tone. "How's the tracking going?"  
"Badly," Pakkun grounded out. "Two of us in every village and we still can't stamp out a single scent."  
"I suspect he used a powerful chemical agent to hinder our efforts," Kakashi explained.  
"Sure," Pakkun blinked, giving Kakashi a funny look. "In any case, it's harder when ya got everybody's sweat and blood and guts all over the place. This'll take all night!"  
"Then you'll scout, all night," Kakashi said, eyeing the dog on his shoulder.  
"But it's gonna rain soon? Can't you tell?" Yes, Kakashi could tell. Beside the clouds of smoke rising into the air, the sky had grown considerably grey in the last hour or so. The sun had long since disappeared behind dark clouds heavy with potential rainfall while the growing wind carried a harsh chill that usually accompanied stormy nights. Still, better than common animals, with their acute sense for looming doom and abrupt weather changes, were nin animals, who could put their instincts to practical use.  
"You ninken are needed now more than ever, Pakkun," Kakashi added, "what with your superior tracking capabilities…"  
"Well," Pakkun beamed, smug. "When you put it like that…"  
"I expect you all to work in unison with the Inuzuka clan."  
"Fine, fine…"  
Pakkun made to move, as though he might jump from the jounin's shoulder, but didn't. He reseated himself, slowly, kneading the paws of his hands into Kakashi's clothes. Although aware of the time and effort Pakkun's task demanded, Kakashi couldn't find it in him to dismiss him just yet. He was quite content, actually, to let the small dog linger for as long as he'd like. Perhaps Pakkun needed a few moment's rest, and Kakashi was happy to allow it, or, perhaps Kakashi was looking for a distraction. After all, the pain coursing through his body had grown considerably less dull, pulsing in rhythm to the beat of his heart. No, it couldn't possibly be that maybe, just maybe, Kakashi felt something itching beneath the surface of his skin, a need for company or reassurance. What uncertainty, Kakashi wondered, called for reassurance?  
"We can't find him." His smallest ninken's low utterance pulled the Rokudaime from his thoughts. "Iruka, Kakashi…" Pakkun looked to him with big, woeful eyes. "We looked all over the place, and we can't find him."  
"…Mm?"  
"We asked around. Some commander told us he was assigned to a retrieval team. Well, we checked every team in every village and we still can't find him."  
Kakashi felt his chest tighten and his throat clench, depriving him of air.  
"Keep looking for him," he managed, calmly. "Please."  
"You don't have to ask me," Pakkun scoffed, jumping from Kakashi's shoulder. He circled around the ground, energetically, sniffing the air to pick up a scent. "Go clean yourself up," he frowned at the jounin, before disappearing in a puff of smoke.  
"I think that's the last of them!"  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah. Let's tag them and bring the others back to the village. There's only so much the medic teams can do here."  
Kakashi looked about the village of Nakamura once more, where his soldiers worked to clear the battlefield. What threat remained was now in custody, being hauled off to one of Konoha's many holding facilities. There, they would receive the full extent of the Fire Country's hospitality, who'd been greeted, in turn, with mass chaos and murder. They'd soon share many pleasant hours in Morino Ibiki's company, along with a fleet of his personally trained torture specialists. After a few days held in Konoha's underground dungeons, a few would talk. After a few weeks of Inoichi's mind-probing sessions, where no corner of their mind went unexamined, more tongues would loosen. After months of Ibiki's torture, however, they would all soon beg in the end.  
If not, Konoha had more permanent ways of dealing with their prisoners.  
The battlefield no longer required Kakashi's brute strength and battle skill. He stood idle, watching as the recovery effort began in Nakamura. He imagined the same taking place in the other villages, as Konoha began regrouping and counting its losses. Bodies littered these civilian lands, fallen enemies and comrades alike. Kakashi had seen the fall of fellow ninja plenty of times and always as an appointed leader. Nevertheless, he could not describe his current astonishment. Leading a squad of eight or twelve, a few dozen or a few hundred men to their deaths paled in comparison to leading an entire nation, and the difference was mentally and physically mortifying.  
His predecessors, no doubt, experienced this burden and dealt with it accordingly, but Kakashi soon found that this burden was all too new and couldn't yet process its considerable weight, let alone deal with the guilt.  
Kakashi waited to hear it, the voice in his mind that often served as a source of support, but such a voice had fallen silent.  
"Kakashi-sama." It was Katsuo breaking into his thoughts. "Kakashi-sama?"  
Kakashi turned, looking to the commanding officer in hopes that a stern stare might conceal his growing fear. "What is it, Katsuo-san?"  
"Sir, I've just been informed by Ibiki-san and Anko-san that recovery is underway in every village. Talks of reconstruction can begin, as soon as tomorrow…" the older man's gruff voice grew faint, drifting in and out of Kakashi's clouded thoughts. "Considering the damage, Konoha will need to set up shelters for the villagers of Kimura, Sato, Nishimura, and Nakamura... Don't you agree, Kakashi-sama?"  
Kakashi turned on his heel and walked away.  
"Kakashi-sama?"  
"I'm returning to the village now," he informed the bemused commanding officer. "Inform Ibiki-san and Anko-san that they are to head recovery procedures and make accommodations for all displaced villagers."  
"Yes, sir."  
"…I have other matters to attend to."

It was raining.  
Kakashi was aware of that much, what with the giant storm clouds traveling overhead. They let out a thunderous clap, every now and then, threatening the land below with an electrifying light show. The jounin kept his head down, his gaze set upon the Memorial Stone. He'd been standing there, for what seemed like hours now. The jounin wasn't sure, as his sense of time had grown ineffective.  
"You can't stand here, all night."  
It was that voice in his head returning to him, at last, telling Kakashi what he already knew to be true.  
"Did you hear me?"  
"Maa…" The Hokage considered answering the voice in his mind. "I heard you," he murmured, eventually.  
Kakashi heard approaching footsteps, as they slapped against the wet grounds. Though mentally exhausted, he focused his attention on the elements that contributed to the sound: the water pooling over the grass, the muddying dirt, and the balding surface of worn sandals. It wasn't until he felt the solid presence of another beside him did his line of thought transform, quick to focus on the body that radiated a great deal more heat than his own.  
"You're injured," the new arrival said weakly, no doubt seeing the streaks of blood running down his front. They weren't hard to miss, especially given the pale grey color of his new robes. "…I would ask you to seek medical attention, but I get the feeling you'd only ignore my wishes."  
"Maa…" Kakashi shrugged, giving way to the searing pain against his left shoulder. "You'd be surprised."  
"Would I?"  
"Mm." Kakashi looked up from the monument, staring off into the surrounding forest. "You we're watching me," he said, recalling how short strands of his hair had been standing on end, and he'd sensed the shrouded signature, felt it quite familiar to him.  
"…Someone once told me that watching people was relevant to being a Shinobi."  
"Indeed," Kakashi hummed, and he turned, slowly, greeting the newcomer with a thoughtful glance. "Ne… Does this mean you're speaking to me again?"  
Iruka shot Kakashi a heated stare, as a flash of lightning lit up his toughened features. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said softly. His eyes wandered toward the surrounding grounds as well, until the two fell into momentary silence before the Memorial Stone. "…Elder Mitokado and Lady Utatane are looking for you."  
"Did they send you here?"  
"No," Iruka said quickly, causing Kakashi a considerable amount of curiosity. He looked towards the chunin, noting the grief etching into his brow. "I think it's safe to say that I'm of no use to them."  
Kakashi found that he couldn't look away from Iruka. He too was drenched from head to toe, to where his uniform drooped against his frame. His hair was tousled and sunken with water. Kakashi spotted a smudge of smoke and a scrape against the younger man's face, as though a flare or an explosive tag had grazed his cheek. With a few more glimpses, he noticed the rips in Iruka's flak jacket and the torn fabric of his sleeves and pants. There were very few cuts, nothing life threatening, but the jounin's fixated mind hadn't yet taken that fact into consideration.  
"Where were you stationed?" Kakashi asked, wanting to encourage conversation.  
"…In Nishimura," Iruka replied, his voice barely audible amid the whirling winds. Nevertheless, it relieved Kakashi to hear the chunin speak again. "I was assigned to a retrieval team with Izumo and Kotetsu. We found a few survivors trapped beneath the rubble. I…informed my captain and helped pull them out, before I was dismissed—"  
"You should have reported to me."  
The jounin earned himself a double-take of confusion.  
"W-what?"  
"I said you should have reported to me. I'm the Hokage and you're my assistant. I don't care where you were stationed—you should have dismissed yourself from your team and come to me."  
"Excuse me?" Iruka's annoyance quickly flared. "Forgive me for not thinking of what you could possibly want from me, at a time like that. I didn't think it was in the job description to go racing about villages, just to appease you."  
"Nakamura was much safer than Nishimura."  
"Are you even listening to me?" Iruka hissed, turning on the jounin. His fiery gaze pierced Kakashi, through sheets of frozen skin. "What would you have needed my presence for, other than to reaffirm your superiority?"  
"I'd rather not say."  
"Why not?" Iruka snapped.  
Kakashi looked to Iruka, gazing at the chunin with both eyes. Even in his weakened state, his transplanted Sharingan remained activated, analyzing the world's secrets and imperfections. Upon Iruka's disgruntled brow, however, Kakashi found none. Even the scar across his nose was flawless.  
Iruka didn't falter under the scrutiny of his Sharingan.  
"I think my reasons far too selfish to admit, as a Hokage."  
His glare soon softened, however, and glazed over with inescapable sadness.  
Kakashi gazed upon the Memorial Stone once more.  
"I think… I understand."  
"You do?"  
"Yes." Kakashi thought he heard a hint of a smile. "I do."  
A silence grew between them, but the heavy downpour seemed to have drowned out Kakashi's thoughts just as well. At some point, he'd lost sight of the occasional shadow that leapt through the darkened sky. Now he only mustered enough mental strength to focus on the chunin beside him. An air of tranquility enveloped Iruka, despite the many fleeting glances he sent Kakashi's way. The jounin felt his intense stare burn against his injuries, quietly disapproving of his neglect.  
When Iruka wasn't staring at him and Kakashi wasn't staring at Iruka, the two were looking upon the Memorial Stone once more, their thoughts hiding beneath the surface.  
"Ne…I'm not always out to reaffirm my superiority," Kakashi frowned, having realized the particulars of Iruka's words.  
"Oh no?" Iruka hummed, challengingly. "What happened between you and Yamato was standard procedure then?"  
"We've had our disagreements, in the past," Kakashi mumbled above another clap of thunder. "Like you, Yamato isn't afraid to speak his mind, a quality I greatly admire."  
"You like people who don't pander to your every whim," Iruka corrected, his eyes shifting, "but I'm sure that's where our similarities end."  
"You and Yamato are very much alike, actually," Kakashi insisted flatly, looking lazily towards the crying sky. "I'm surprised I didn't see it before…"  
"Because there's nothing to see," Iruka retorted. "You're making connections that don't exist."  
"My connections tend to make sense."  
"That doesn't make them real, Kakashi." Another bout of silence enveloped the two. Kakashi heard the chunin shuffle his gait, the moist grass beneath him bouncing back whenever he lifted his feet. "In any case," Iruka sighed, looking to the ground. "Team 7 has departed for Amegakure, and they're more determined than ever to perform their duties…as a team."  
Kakashi shrugged, the pain in the movement multiplying by tenfold.  
"An assignment of this importance should go to a team that's able to look beyond the affiliations that divide us; a team with no prejudices, made up of people you can trust. You would agree that Team 7 fits the criteria."  
Iruka made a sound point, despite the jounin's unwillingness to admit it. He had not overlooked the importance of the mission, simply the unknown variable: what team would perform it. By all rights, the Council could have easily compiled a team filled with some of Konoha's most xenophobic Shinobi, in an attempt to sabotage his vision. Instead, they chose Team 7, and, whether that was a sincerely tactful move or a political one, to pull rank…Kakashi didn't know.  
"I think what's happened today has made an impact on Naruto," Iruka continued, and Kakashi could again hear the faintest, weakest smile press against the chunin's lips. "Being out on the field, defending and protecting so many people who could not defend and protect themselves… He remembers what being a ninja means to him. When I treated him to Ichiraku's, I saw that light return to his eyes, and he understands now that there are far greater struggles than his own…"  
"Maa," Kakashi nodded thoughtlessly. "That's a reality he's lost sight of, in recent months."  
"Yes. It is," Iruka whispered, heaving a deep sigh.  
He was exhausted, drained from the day's events, and yet…Kakashi saw balance, a silent strength that often encompassed the chunin. He wondered what thoughts brought about such peace within the younger man's gaze. Was it Naruto, his beloved charge's newly realized purpose, or was it a silent prayer spoken before the monument, putting his mind at ease. If the latter, Kakashi would like nothing more than to learn his chant.  
"…My parents," the chunin spoke, interrupting Kakashi's musings. Iruka's eyes remained fixed on the stone before their feet, affection shrouding his sunken gaze. "When I was a boy, I would come here, every day, and visit them. I used to talk to them," he snorted weakly. "I know, it's strange, but I'd tell them everything about my day. It was almost like I was speaking to them, from across the dinner table, again."  
Iruka reached out, pointing to one side of the rock.  
"That's their names, right over there." Kakashi had already gathered as much. He'd seen the name 'Umino' many times, but in what relation to the chunin sensei he never before questioned. "My dad was a rough man, and mom used to call him on his stubbornness all the time." Iruka laughed weakly, "She was just as headstrong, though, and fussy too. When she wasn't on duty, she was at home, scrubbing down the floors and sewing the rips in my clothes. Father always said her meticulousness drove him mad, but I think that's what he loved most about her."  
Iruka lowered his hand.  
"They died during the Kyuubi attack," he managed quietly. "After the funeral ceremony, I went home and scrubbed the floors. There I was, this rowdy kid who hated chores and cleaning but, on that night, I cleaned our home from top to bottom; just like my mom would have, while I imagined my dad's good-humored ranting."  
Iruka paused, his gaze falling to the soggy ground.  
"I was eleven, at the time." The chunin sighed. "I didn't want to come to terms with what had happened, so I went on pretending that they'd never left me. After some time, though, the fact that I was all alone became harder to ignore… It was so quiet."  
Kakashi frowned, his mismatched eyes falling upon Iruka, taken by a mixture of sympathy and curiosity. "Did you have no other family you could stay with?"  
Iruka shook his head.  
"I knew no other family but my parents," he explained, "and they hadn't saved up nearly enough money to allow me to live on my own for very long. I would have been out on the streets, if not for the Third. Until I could afford to move out, he made it possible for me to live at home." Iruka bowed before the Memorial Stone. "I owe everything to Hiruzen-sama, and I owe everything to my parents. Their last acts on this earth were honorable ones, defending this village and protecting me."  
Iruka pulled the lopsided hitai-ate from around his head, folding it in his hands.  
"Now I come here, as often as I can, and honor their memories."  
Iruka blinked away the rain running down his face, keeping his gaze steady upon the monument.  
Kakashi gave the headband in Iruka's hands a curious glance before reaching for his own. He had a new one now, one that came with his new robes, along with a pair of black shin guards, black, fingerless gloves, a black undershirt, mask, and a white under-wrap. His hitai-ate, with the Fire symbol etched into its plate, was the only thing keeping his weathered hair from drooping over his eyesight. Kakashi looked to Iruka one last time, before pulling it from his head. He stared at it, his brow arching, as a flash of lightning shined against its metal plate.  
He sensed this was something significant to the younger man; an act of respect, perhaps, and so followed suit, wrapping the headband between his fingers. He eyed it, wearily, wondering what of his own rituals he might have carried with him to the memorial sight.  
"…I come here quite often, as well, to visit someone who was once very close to me," the jounin heard himself say. He grew stunned. He rarely brought up his visits to the Memorial Stone or his reasons behind them, for that matter. Yet here, with Iruka, the words flowed freely from his lips, as fluid as the water running down his hair. "A teammate of mine…he died in the Third Shinobi World War. His name was Obito."  
"Obito," Iruka repeated, making it apparent to Kakashi that the chunin probably knew nothing of his fallen teammate.  
"He was annoying, at first," Kakashi continued. "I didn't appreciate his lack of discipline, either, or how he was chronically tardy and lying all of the time."  
"Uh, Kakashi…" Iruka fidgeted, his eyes shifting suspiciously over the jounin.  
"I know what you're thinking," the jounin sighed, "but I wasn't always like this."  
"Did he change you?"  
"You could say that he did," Kakashi hummed, "and it was he who gave me this Sharingan."  
Iruka's eyes rounded with surprise.  
"He was an Uchiha."  
"Yes," Kakashi confirmed. "He was, but you wouldn't have known it, if not for those eyes. He lacked a certain grace about him." The jounin honed in on the late Uchiha's name. "He was a melodramatic knucklehead who was too carefree for his own good."  
"That also sounds suspiciously familiar."  
"Yes," a harsh chuckle escaped Kakashi's throat. "I see a lot of Obito in Naruto and, for all their faults, their shared principles about the ninja way of life more than make up for them." Kakashi eyed Iruka. "They value friendship, above all else, and the need to protect the ones they love."  
A distant stare came over Iruka's furrowed brow, accompanying the subtle biting of his lower lip.  
"That's his name, up there." Kakashi reached out, pointing towards the tip of the stone. "He must forgive me," he went on to say, addressing the stone as though Obito himself sat against it. His eyes darted Iruka's way, pleased by the small grin spreading against the chunin's lips. "I haven't been visiting as often as I should have, as of late."  
"Why is that, may I ask?" Iruka breathed.  
"Maa…"  
Kakashi moved his good arm, his right hand lifting to brush droplets of water from the back of his head.  
"I often come here, seeking the company of a fallen friend," he sighed, "but the outdoors can be unpredictable and quite…unpleasant, at times." He shrugged, nodding towards the falling sky. "I like the indoors, preferably a place of peace and comfort." Kakashi then looked to Iruka, affectionately. "Even better," he hummed, "if there's someone there whose company I long to keep." Iruka returned the gaze, nervously, unable to maintain it for very long. He cleared his throat and glanced away, his reddening face quickly fading to the biting cold and frosty downpour. Still, the jounin beside him kept a cool and calm stare against him.  
"Kakashi…" Iruka bent forward, his hands clenching against his pants. Kakashi looked on, increasingly concerned by how the chunin shielded himself away. Iruka went to speak again, the chaotic wind picking up only a shadow of his normally bold tone. The jounin heard a tremble of fear, saw it in Iruka's submissive body language, and found that he did not care for it one bit. "There's something I need to tell you… I—"  
"I know."  
Iruka froze, his clenched fists going still against his thighs. No blush could withstand this weather, leaving the chunin's cheeks pale with cold dread. Kakashi gazed upon him, thoughtfully, Iruka working harder than ever before to look anywhere but in his direction.  
"It was you who pushed for Team 7's notices; you forged my signature and reinstated my team. Maa," Kakashi rubbed a battered hand over his stiff neck, "my suspicions were low, I must admit. I thought it was the Council's doing, undermining my authority. It never occurred to me that you might disagree with Naruto's recent decisions as well. You coddle him, after all," he said plainly.  
Iruka swallowed hard, eyes wide, his lip biting now uncontrollable.  
"Still," Kakashi went on, "it didn't surprise me, when I realized the truth. It makes sense, actually."  
"I should have said something," Iruka blurted out, shakily, as though he'd been holding his breath the entire time. "Oh god…" he dropped his hands into his face, shaking his head. "I should have said something," he repeated, whimpering weakly.  
Kakashi frowned.  
"Admitting the truth would have given the elders a legitimate reason to have you removed from my services," he sighed, looking to the Memorial Stone. "Impersonating a Hokage is a serious offense. Never mind losing you as my assistant, Iruka. They'd strip you of your title as an Academy sensei…you'd lose what matters to you most." Water dripped from the stark crease in his brow. "They would have had you arrested, on the spot; imprisoned, by this time today, pending a sentence of the harshest punishment they think they could get away with."  
"They must really hate me." Iruka looked to the ground, dismayed, his hands dropping from his face.  
"They don't," Kakashi insisted softly. "They hate that you're not under their control."  
"Whose control am I under then?" the chunin retorted bitterly. "Yours?"  
"No," Kakashi said sharply, quite sure of this, "and that bothers them."  
"Then what am I?" Iruka spat, glaring at the ground.  
"Lucky," Kakashi replied, glancing Iruka's way, "for now. We can only hope that no one on that panel suspects much to speak of it in passing…"  
"We?" Iruka shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I committed a crime, Kakashi, not you. It's bad enough that I just sat by and let Naruto say those things to you. Ooh!" Another bout of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating Iruka's absolute shame. "I'm just so angry with myself." He looked to Kakashi, at last, frowning. "Why aren't you y-yelling at me?"  
"Mm?" the lids over Kakashi's eyes lifted curiously. "Should I be?" Iruka didn't say, growing silent with guilt. "I don't think I should," he answered himself, looking to the head protector in his hand. "What you did…was necessary."  
Iruka froze again, his eyes bulging towards the jounin.  
"B-but you said—"  
"Yamato was right. You were right, and I was wrong." Kakashi looked to the head protector in Iruka's hands as well, as it shook slightly in the other man's grip. "I was aware of my faults and didn't want to admit to them. Team 7's been out of commission for some time, and they have every right to return to duty. As for Naruto," the jounin reached out for the chunin beside him, wrapping his fingers around Iruka's trembling hands. They were cold, unlike the chunin, but tender and bruised.  
Iruka bowed his head, acknowledging Kakashi's touch. The jounin held his headband against his own, while pale fingers glided across his clammy skin. Iruka trembled, frozen to the core, only able to stand by and watch as the Hokage turned his hand in his.  
"This is what I wanted," Kakashi said, "for him to realize the error of his ways." He closed his hand around Iruka's, cupping the chunin's fingers into a makeshift fist. "...I have faith that Naruto will remember why he worked so hard to become the great Shinobi that he is. Even if he never moves on," Kakashi gave the hand in his a gentle squeeze, "he'll understand that he shouldn't have to lose himself." He looked to Iruka, their sunken glances one and the same.  
"I want what's best for Naruto."  
"Maa… So do I."  
The two looked upon the Memorial Stone, holding hands between them. The splashing of heavy rain filled the easy silence, accompanied by a groaning wind and a flickering sky. Kakashi tightened his hold on Iruka, as the atmosphere resounded in another violent roar, not expecting the hand in his to squeeze back. It did. Metal plates clinked together, an insignificant sound, as Iruka's fingertips worked restlessly against the back of his gloved hand.  
Kakashi sensed anxiety rack Iruka's racing thoughts, and he stood similarly inflicted.  
"Ne, are you as taken by guilt as I am?"  
"More guilt than I can bear."  
Kakashi lurched forward, suddenly, clutching at his left shoulder.  
"Kakashi?"  
"It's…nothing," Kakashi grimaced, shutting his eyes against the pain. It was apparent to him now that he could no longer ignore the injury he acquired while on the battlefield. Its numb, pulsing discomfort had, slowly but surely, caught up with the trauma it inflicted. Kakashi knew how deep it ran, tearing flesh, tissue, muscle, and nerves as it went. More importantly, the injury was in close proximity to his heart, a fact that would have prompted anyone else to seek immediate medical attention. "It's just a graze, nothing more. I'm sure you have a few as well, Iruka."  
"You idiot," he heard Iruka hiss and felt the weight of his good arm fall over the chunin's shoulders. "You've probably been here for hours, when you should have been at the hospital."  
"The hospital has quite a few patients, as it is," Kakashi breathed, leaning up against Iruka's frame. He looked to the chunin, relishing in the warmth brought on by his body heat. Nightfall descended across the cloudy sky, the heavy downpour increased in speed, and Kakashi mentally acknowledged that having exposed himself to these elements was a misstep in judgment on his part.  
"You could have seen a private medic-nin," Iruka mumbled, looking upon the pained jounin weakly. He reached out, hesitantly, brushing fingers lightly over the bloody and torn front of Kakashi's robes. The jounin stood still, too pained to pull away even if he wanted to. He lifted his chin, noting the distress growing in Iruka's dark gaze. Kakashi would have liked to believe that it caused Iruka some grief, to see him in this state. He hoped it was worry seizing him, worry for him that had the chunin keeping him on his feet. "If it's the hospital you're trying to avoid…"  
Kakashi groaned in agony, his head falling forward. The arm wrapped around his torso tightened its grip.  
"Never mind," Iruka whispered. The chunin gave the Memorial Stone one last glance, as Kakashi managed the same, muttering a soft farewell into the damp air. Iruka looked to Kakashi, whose wet strands of silver hair obscured what was visible of his face, smiling sadly. "Let's go home."  
Chapter Twenty Four  
Kakashi looked around, eyeing Iruka's living room with familiarity.  
Iruka approached, exiting his kitchen, holding a wooden trey in his hands. The jounin eyed it, disinterested, having seen its contents many times before.  
"There," Iruka grumbled, setting it on his desk chair. He'd originally pulled it out for Kakashi to sit on but the jounin refused to sit down. Iruka pulled up, holding his waist with both hands, all the while eyeing Kakashi disapprovingly. "I really wish you would sit down."  
"Ne…" Kakashi whined, tilting his head. "I can stand."  
"You shouldn't be on your feet," Iruka growled, eyeing the Rokudaime from head to toe. "You got caught in an explosion. Didn't you?"  
"Maybe," Kakashi shrugged indifferently. "It's difficult to recall, at the moment."  
"You did," Iruka was quick to declare, wearing his signature hot-tempered scowl. "Even a chunin like me, who rarely goes out on the field, can see that the marks on your clothes were caused by enemy fire." Iruka leaned forward to organize what was on the trey. He continued, sighing, "You've suffered a considerable amount of trauma, Kakashi. There's a reason why hospital patients are subjected to bed rest."  
"But I'm not in a hospital, Iruka."  
"I wish you were!" Iruka snapped, tossing the towel in his hand into what appeared to be a bowl of water. The sloshing filled the stiff silence, threatening to spill over the basin's rim. If it had, the water could have seeped into any number of medical supplies the chunin possessed. Kakashi looked down, eyeing the utensils Iruka spent a good few minutes sterilizing under a hot tap. They glistened now, beneath the soft gold hue of Iruka's apartment, seemingly harmless in a sinister way.  
"You don't want me here," Kakashi said slowly.  
"I didn't say that," Iruka shot back, his face growing flustered. Blood rushed to the surface of his cheeks, the familiar sight easing the anxiety in the pit of Kakashi's stomach. "You should be in a hospital, Kakashi," Iruka said quietly. "I don't know why you didn't see a medic team, while in Nakamura, but a medic-nin could have healed you in seconds," Iruka fixed a pitiful stare on the jounin, "and a hospital staff could treat your injuries far better than I can."  
"Maa," Kakashi blinked, staring straight into Iruka's worry-stricken eyes, "and yet I chose to come here, instead."  
"You didn't choose to come here," Iruka scoffed, crossing his arms. "I had to drag you away from the Memorial Stone." Heated eyes fell against Kakashi's broad shoulders, stopping cold on the damp and bloody mess that was his upper chest. "You would have stayed there, all night, had I not taken you away."  
"So, you brought me here," Kakashi hummed, stepping forward. "Instead of taking me to the hospital, where you believe I'll receive better treatment, you took me home."  
"To honor your wishes, not to hear you throw it back in my face," Iruka frowned, hurt and angered.  
Kakashi stopped.  
"You're right," he said, looking down. "That was wrong of me."  
Iruka's anger fell away, his eyes fluttering with uncertainty.  
Kakashi sensed Iruka's pause but, instead, focused his attention to the gauze and bandage wraps laid out on the trey. That's when he saw sudden movement in his peripheral vision, Iruka's hands reaching up and stopping in midair.  
"…I need to remove your robes, Kakashi," Iruka said quietly, as the two shared a long glance. "You'll only irritate your wound, if you do it yourself." Kakashi nodded his understanding, at ease when Iruka pressed the palms of his hands against his chest. "I didn't want to alarm you," fingers peeled at the opening of his robes, "because I know that, after what happened today, your mind is still on the field."  
"Ne, you're not my enemy, Iruka," the jounin murmured, as Iruka's fingers gingerly pulled his robes from his shoulders. He could feel the fabric of his clothes tug at the lacerated flesh of his injury, where the enemy's kunai had slashed him open. The surface of his wound felt numb, but the blade of the kunai had run so deep that Kakashi could feel the torn tissue and severed nerves cry out in agony, drowning in a pool of clotted blood. He was used to this, however, and had learned, long ago, how to compose himself…how to keep the bile from rising in his throat as he fought the urge to retch and collapse. "You're not a threat to me."  
Kakashi didn't know what would have happened, had Iruka not showed up. He might have lasted a few hours more, hovering over the Memorial Stone, knowing that a very painful, very agonizing journey home was in store for him. Iruka's comparatively healthier chakra level enabled the chunin to carry them both across the rooftops, racing at speeds the jounin would not have been capable of considering let alone performing himself.  
"Yes, I know," Iruka frowned, pulling Kakashi's arms with care. "A mere chunin sensei isn't much of a threat to you." His careful handling did not match the fire in his eyes, as he dragged the robes from Kakashi's body. Then he stepped away to fold them over his arms, aggressively, glaring at their dirty, sodden state.  
Kakashi looked on, glaring as well. "I think you're misinterpreting my words."  
"How so?" Iruka snapped, looking anywhere but at the jounin standing in his living room. He returned to his task, running his hands along the sides of Kakashi's under-wrap. Iruka stood close, clearly despite himself, until Kakashi could smell a faint mixture of earth and rainwater in the thick locks of Iruka's hair. "I know you think I'm weak," Iruka muttered. Kakashi closed his eye, Iruka's words falling against him in heated pockets of air.  
"Mm…" the jounin hummed, his eye falling thoughtfully upon the chunin. "Compared to me, you are weaker," he replied, as busy hands loosened the ties from his frame. Iruka looked on, concentrating his pained expression on removing Kakashi's undergarment in the same manner as his robes. His eyes darted nervously towards the thick patch of blood around Kakashi's wound, staining the white cloth. "However," Kakashi continued, suppressing a hiss when Iruka peeled the piece of clothing from the injured area, "there are plenty of other ninja weaker than me, and there are those who are stronger than myself."  
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Iruka moved away, tossing the robes towards his couch. He turned to Kakashi again, keeping his gaze low.  
"There are those who are weaker than you, Iruka." Iruka's eyes wandered up at that, finding Kakashi's half-lidded stare. Warm hands brushed against Kakashi's skin, pulling his under-wrap from his now bare arms. "If I've ever said that you're weaker than me, it's not to say that you couldn't pose a threat to me." Iruka gathered the under-wrap in his hands, looking to the jounin expectantly.  
"What are you trying to tell me, Kakashi," he sighed, closing his eyes.  
"I'm here, in your home, wounded," Kakashi began, eyeing Iruka closely. "I have enough chakra to function, as any civilian would, but not enough to defend myself in any way that is effective. It's not often that I allow others to undress me." Iruka blinked, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I think it's safe to say that I'm the only patient the hospital staff has to sedate, in order to remove my clothes. If they don't," Kakashi reached between them, taking the soggy wrap from Iruka's clutch, "a few innocent orderlies are bound to get hurt." He tossed the wrap to the floor. "But I wouldn't hurt you, Iruka."  
"…Are you saying you feel vulnerable?"  
"I'm admitting that I don't," he corrected, his eye crinkling, "because I trust you."  
Iruka's eyes grew wide with surprise before turning away, guiltily.  
"You shouldn't," he huffed, kneeling to the floor. "It's because of me that Naruto said those things to you." He reached past Kakashi's bare feet, picking up the bloodied wrap the jounin had so carelessly discarded on his carpeted floors. Iruka grabbed the soiled fabric and gripped it tightly, fighting off tremors of shame. "I let you take the blame, for something that I did."  
Iruka climbed to his feet, throwing the wrap against his couch. Kakashi looked to him, pained by the tone in Iruka's voice, the defeat in the chunin's eyes. Iruka's free flowing hair had fallen out of place, framing the sides of his face light dark curtains. The jounin stood beside his actions, when his fingers reached out to tuck the fallen strands back behind Iruka's ears. The chunin froze, only briefly, before relaxing against his touch.  
"Thanks," Iruka mumbled.  
"My pleasure," Kakashi said.  
He didn't think Iruka's flushed face could grow any redder, but it was apparent that it could, and brown eyes avoided his grey one, honing in on the injured area of his body. The black skin of his sleeveless undershirt had grown even darker, where blood had seeped through. Iruka reached out, tentatively, tracing cautious fingers over the length of the wound.  
"Can you feel that?" he spoke softly, as though a harsher tone might injure Kakashi further.  
"No," Kakashi said, looking down. He watched sun kissed fingertips press gently against the torn flesh, growing troubled by the lack of sensation. "The area's gone numb."  
"Let's hope it's not infected," Iruka said with furrowed brow, his fingers tracing up Kakashi's clavicle. "I can feel a break in the bone, Kakashi," he breathed, bewildered and alarmed. His eyes shot up, questioning the jounin with a look of fright. "This feels excruciating...! You're the Hokage, for goodness sake! A medic team should have come to your aid!" he spat harshly.  
"Ma, they did," Kakashi said, "but I waved them off."  
"Why?"  
"Because," Kakashi reached over, joining Iruka's hand with his own, "in Nakamura alone, there were those in far worse shape than I." He pressed his fingers against the area of trauma, still feeling only deadened pressure. "I told them to instead assist those whose wounds were so severe that the pain had rendered them unconscious."  
"Kakashi, you are severely wounded," Iruka scolded, "and because you were still conscious is not an acceptable reason to deny treatment!"  
"A team that's not focusing its time on the Hokage is a team healing and saving others who are in desperate need of attention."  
"Do you want to be in pain?" The anger in Iruka's eyes pierced him to the core. Kakashi didn't answer, not that it seemed to matter. Iruka returned his attention to the wound, his gaze saddening with every passing second.  
"Maa…" Kakashi exhaled deeply, a spark igniting within his chest. "If I didn't know any better, Iruka, I'd say you were worried about me."  
"Of course I'm worried about you," Iruka scoffed, glaring up at him. The spark in Kakashi's chest then exploded, sending waves of electric shocks coursing through his battered body. "One of us has to be."  
Iruka dropped his hand from Kakashi's chest and looked towards the trey, ignoring the jounin's unwavering stare. He let his hand ghost over the utensils, reaching for a bottle of antiseptic. "No," he muttered to himself, scratching the tip of his nose thoughtfully. "I can't do that yet," he muttered, looking between Kakashi's injury and the tools at his disposal. "I'm concerned about your undershirt getting in the way," he admitted, frowning. "Of course, you can keep it on," he added quickly. "I'll just have to find a way to work around it…ah!"  
Iruka picked up a pair of scissors, beaming. He looked to Kakashi, an idea shimmering in his eyes.  
"I can cut around the area, from here," the chunin pointed a few inches below the wound, "to here, just under where your mask starts." He smiled, hesitantly, searching Kakashi's eye for consent. "Is that alright?"  
"Well, it doesn't look like I'll be wearing this shirt again, any time soon," the jounin sighed, looking away miserably.  
Iruka nodded, hearing the confirmation. He held his scissors out, in one hand, and tugged at Kakashi's torn shirt with the other.  
"However," Kakashi caught Iruka's wrist in a loose grip, stopping him mid-cut. The chunin shot him a puzzled glance, one of which he was determined to solve. "There's a simpler way of doing this."  
"Oh yeah?" Iruka asked, challengingly, lowering his scissor hand. "What way is that?"  
Kakashi released Iruka, reaching down for the hem of his shirt. He ignored the stabbing ache brought on by his movements.  
"Ack!" Iruka stumbled back, panicking. "What are you doing? I-I said you didn't have to take it off, Kakashi! Don—!"  
With one swift tug, Kakashi pulled the sleeveless shirt and mask from over his shoulders. The throbbing pain of moving his left arm nearly caused him to collapse, but he managed to stand. A pleasant air instantly hit his naked torso, and he grew warmer now than while wearing his damp clothes. Iruka froze then turned fretful, his eyes widening and darting away when Kakashi lifted the mask from his face. The chunin made sure that his eyes never traveled farther than the base of the older man's neck, when he glanced nervously back towards the jounin.  
"You idiot!" Iruka barked, glaring at Kakashi's well-defined chest. "I was trying to make it so you didn't have to take off your mask!"  
"Maa… Is that what you were trying to do?" the jounin breathed, his low baritone no longer muffled behind the fabric of his mask. "Why, I had no idea," he hummed, tossing his sleeveless shirt and mask to the couch. Meanwhile, Iruka had set his scissors back down against the trey and was now fuming with silent fury. Kakashi wiped a hand over his mouth, rubbing at the slight stubble on his chin, as he eyed the chunin. "I hope this isn't going to be a problem for you."  
"Of course it isn't going to be a problem for me," Iruka repeated, snatching up the bottle of antiseptic. "Don't worry," he then picked up the cleansing towel, soaking it in water. "I won't look at your face," he said.  
Kakashi's face fell.  
"This is better, actually," Iruka added, pouring the antiseptic against the towel. "I won't have to waste time, cutting away your clothes, and cleaning it will be easier." He set the antiseptic back down against the trey. "Now…" Iruka's voice fell, his eyes wandering over the expanse of Kakashi's upper body. Kakashi followed Iruka's gaze, his eyes falling against his own pale flesh.  
"Maa, Iruka," the jounin muttered, wanting to fill the growing silence. "Most people in your position would jump at the opportunity to look at my face."  
"Well, I'm not most people," Iruka breathed, stepping closer. Kakashi swallowed hard, eyeing Iruka with some apprehension when the younger man reached out to trail a hand against his roughened skin. His muscles seized beneath Iruka's wandering fingers but eventually relaxed to the chunin's touch. "These scars…" Iruka frowned.  
"I'm sure you have quite a few as well," Kakashi replied, forcefully, now more aware of the fingertips examining his scarred body.  
"I do," Iruka admitted, his face flushing red, "but very few like these. Like this one," Iruka gasped, running two fingers over the thin line running diagonally over his ribcage.  
"A run-in with the Akatsuki," Kakashi explained, staring passed Iruka's eyes.  
Iruka nodded. "What about this one?" he asked, pressing the whole of his hand over the jagged scar stretching horizontally over his midsection. Kakashi's breath hitched, his cold skin melting beneath Iruka's caress.  
"The last war," he said, weakly, his half-lidded gaze struggling to stay open. Then the sensation was gone, the pleasant pressure disappearing along it.  
Iruka nodded again, slowly, his brow creasing. He looked up, focusing on the scar tissue surrounding Kakashi's most recent injury.  
Kakashi kept his eye focused on the kitchen in the distance. It was dark, with the lights turned off, barely illuminated by the two glowing lamps in the living room. Kakashi studied the outline of the stove and the cabinets, refusing to look down at Iruka's horror-stricken face. "Kakashi…" a hand reached up, pressing gently against his sternum.  
"That's another wound from Akatsuki," Kakashi said quickly, "a triple-bladed scythe."  
"No." Iruka shook his head. "That's here," he pointed towards the three diagonal scars situated close by the newly torn flesh. "I'm talking about here," Iruka whispered, the pads of his fingers circling the center of Kakashi's chest. Fear enveloped Iruka, his eyes growing wider than ever before, as his hand curled against the hardened tissue. "This is from…"  
"It's nothing—"  
"No, it's not!" Iruka hissed, mortified, glaring at Kakashi's chest. "I remember what happened," he trailed away, his gaze falling.  
"It's not wor—"  
"You got this, because of me," the chunin whispered guiltily, looking to the floor. "You risked your life, and Sasuke—"  
"IRUKA." Iruka fell silent, under the command of Kakashi's voice. The jounin reached up, wrapping his fingers around Iruka's fist. "That's enough," he said, lowering the hand in his. "What's done is done, so please…" The plea fell from his unmasked lips, before he could register his words.  
Iruka's eyes fell just short of Kakashi's face, his eyes brimming with grief. "I'm sorry, Kakashi…"  
"You shouldn't apologize—"  
"I know, because it makes me look weak."  
"No," Kakashi shook his head, eyeing the scar across Iruka's face, "because you have nothing to apologize for." The hand in his went lax, much to the jounin's relief. Kakashi couldn't stand by and watch Iruka drive himself into such a state. He would rather the source of Iruka's grief be him than to see the chunin turn on himself.  
"…I-I think I should clean the wound now," Iruka said softly, raising the towel before his chest. Kakashi watched, expectantly, but the chunin paused to study the disturbed skin. His trained eyes prompted Kakashi to look down as well, but his muscled pec hindered him from seeing the full length of his wound. He could feel it, however, ending a few inches away from his left nipple. "This might sting a bit," Iruka warned.  
"Treating wounds the old-fashion way is never a pleasant experience," Kakashi hummed.  
Kakashi didn't brace himself as Iruka did, the wet towel in his hand creeping steadily towards his chest. A smile tugged at the corners of Kakashi's lips, as he acknowledged Iruka's obvious nervousness.  
"I'm sure you know what you're doing."  
"Of course I know what I'm doing," Iruka snapped weakly, rubbing the cloth over the bloodstained skin surrounding the wound. "You don't give impulsive, inexperienced pre-genin dangerous weapons to practice with and not know a thing or two about medical aid." The chunin frowned, his gaze locked in on Kakashi's injury. "I'm just…" the towel against Kakashi's chest froze. "It's different."  
"Mm? In what way, Iruka?" Kakashi asked.  
Iruka turned towards the trey, plunging the bloodied towel into the bowl of water. It quickly took on a pinkish hue.  
"Iruka…?"  
"It's just different," Iruka said, sighing. He turned back to clean the wound. "I've never had to treat a Hokage's injury before."  
"There's a first time for everything. Wouldn't you agree?"  
Kakashi let out a pleasant hum, almost like a purr, despite the dull ache in his chest. Ignoring the pain was easy, when he could amuse himself with the faint scarlet growing darker against Iruka's skin. To compound his enjoyment, Kakashi reached out again, brushing a hand over the chunin's warm cheek to run his fingers through tendrils of brown hair. Iruka sulked, blinking feverishly, but continued to concentrate on his task. Kakashi gazed upon Iruka, with a warmth unknown to him.  
"Ma, Iruka…?"  
The towel in Iruka's hand slipped, dipping into the jagged hole in Kakashi's chest. The jounin felt a sudden searing pain, as a mixture of antiseptic and what he thought was water traveled down into his open wound.  
"You shouldn't say such meaningless things, Kakashi," Iruka said tightly, ignoring the jounin's guttural grunt.  
"Nee…That's not water," Kakashi growled, his brow furrowing with annoyance.  
"No," Iruka replied, dabbing the towel over the wound now. Kakashi looked down again, eyeing Iruka's fast work. Already, the area around the torn flesh was clear of blood, leaving a clear outline of the depth and width of his injury. "It's a combination of water and a solvent that, when mixed together, creates an antibacterial soap that promotes faster healing." The chunin scrubbed into the wound as gently as possible, no longer hindered by a sense of nervousness.  
"I see…" Kakashi looked on, the vicious stinging growing dull. A few seconds more, and Kakashi could hardly feel the sting at all, until it was as numb as the outer surface of his wound. "The hospital supplies this to medic-nin who perform team-based assignments," he sighed, having recognized the familiar sensation. Kakashi eyed Iruka with curiosity.  
"The hospital supplies the Academy with the same solvents," Iruka mumbled quickly, dropping the towel back into the bowl. He picked it up again, ringing it out. "In any case," he pressed the towel back over the wound, placing pressure against the area, "when I'm done cleaning this out, I'll start stitching it together. The least I can do is close the wound so it can heal, and I can make sure that scarring is minimal."  
"I understand," Kakashi said.  
"Good," Iruka sniffed, "then if you understand, you'll know what I'm going to say next."  
"Maa," Kakashi whined. "I'd rather you not…"  
"Kakashi, there's nothing I can do about a broken bone. Promise me you'll see a healer, at least."  
"Iruka…"  
"Promise me," Iruka stopped again. His eyes grew stern, looking to Kakashi's chest as if it were the jounin's face. "Please."  
Kakashi stared back, nodding obediently. "…I promise."  
"Thank you," Iruka said, smiling weakly. He let out a deep sigh, his tense shoulders dropping with ease. "Now, let's get you patched up."  
It was a few minutes more before Iruka finished cleaning out the wound. He was insistent on ensuring a clean healing process, making certain to dig deep into the damaged area. Kakashi winced and cringed his way through the ordeal, having suffered through far greater agony being a small comfort. Clearly, his body had grown accustom to being healed instantly and had forgotten what it felt like to suffer through manual treatment.  
Kakashi gazed around, rather than watch the chunin put together a surgical suture. Iruka's apartment was as he remembered, down to the number of dishes sitting in the drying rack and the shogi set left on the coffee table. Blankets sat folded on the other end of the couch, while piles of paperwork sat stacked on Iruka's desk. The differences were small, like the two pairs of sandals placed against the front door, the two headbands folded together on the kitchen counter, lying beside Iruka's flak jacket.  
Yes, everything was as Kakashi recalled from the night before, except…  
"Take's feeling well, I hope," Kakashi said, looking towards the couch. That's where he'd seen the boy last, sitting cross-legged on the floor. The two had played a few shogi games, where Take demonstrated advance skills in strategy and deductive reasoning, but the pre-genin genius still couldn't win against Kakashi.  
"Yes," Iruka answered, a small grin forming against his lips. "His fever was gone, by last night."  
"That's good," Kakashi nodded, frowning still. "Where is he, if I may ask?"  
"You may," Iruka said, but the smile on his face fell fast. The chunin looked down, fiddling with the suture in his hand. "I took him home."  
"You took him home? Why?"  
Iruka reached up, false confusion on his face. "Why would I take someone to their home? I don't know… Is that strange?"  
"He didn't want to go home," Kakashi clarified.  
"And I didn't want him to go home," Iruka frowned, "but it's not like I have a choice. I'm not his caretaker."  
"No," Kakashi barked, his tone falling low. "That woman Take spoke of, the one who doesn't care for him. She's his caretaker."  
"So you do care," Iruka said, gazing upon the jounin's injury, "about Take."  
"I…"  
Kakashi's first instinct was to deny, negate Iruka for the sake of argument. Instead, he reconsidered what Iruka seemed to believe so adamantly, thinking back to when he and Take first met. The boy tried to run him through with a kunai, on that day. Still, his thoughts progressed to the afternoons spent training the boy, where whatever differences they shared, whatever misgivings felt for each other fell away. He recalled last night and the night before, where the boy was still a brat but one whose company he quite enjoyed.  
Kakashi thought back to a restless Take and how he stayed up, watching over the feverish boy as he slept.  
"I do," he admitted at last, earning Iruka's astonishment. "I do care. He's a promising student…" Iruka eyed him closely. "He's a good kid." Take wasn't just a pre-genin genius Kakashi knew from Iruka's class. He was the fever-ridden idiot determined to win their seventh round of shogi, the scruffy, scrawny, silver haired brat who wanted to know more about the Chidori. He was the boy Kakashi helped to sit, as he fed him soup.  
"He is a good kid," Iruka said, smiling sadly.  
"…And if he's in a place he doesn't want to be, wouldn't you agree that something should be done to correct this arrangement?"  
"I do," Iruka frowned, "but there's not much I can do, at this point, Kakashi. He's welcomed here, at any time, and he can come back whenever he likes…but he can't stay." Iruka raised the suture to Kakashi's chest, using his other hand to pinch the skin together. "This will hurt," he said.  
"I know," Kakashi replied, looking down.  
It didn't hurt initially, as the needle punctured through a few layers of tissue. Kakashi also knew that the solvent Iruka used served as a mild numbing agent. For the first row of stitching, a simple zigzag design, Kakashi felt only minor discomfort.  
"That was fast," he hummed, encouragingly.  
"Thanks. I've had plenty of practice, with some of my students," Iruka explained, starting a new stitch. "It's come to my understanding that the faster it's done, the less they fear what's being done to them."  
"Ne…" Kakashi bellyached, looking to the tan hand braced against his good shoulder. "I assure you, I have no intentions of shying away."  
"Better safe than sorry," Iruka sighed playfully, picking up a second suture. "You're nearly as bad as some of my youngest students are sometimes, Kakashi." Iruka began to sew in second row of thread, in an opposite zigzag, running it a bit deeper.  
"I'm just as unpredictable," Kakashi murmured in a lazy drawl.  
"That you are," Iruka breathed, a hint of levity in his tone. "When it comes to keeping me on my toes, you have the lead on my students." Kakashi chuckled weakly, his lips spreading into a smile that such an honorable chunin would never see. "Done."  
"Mm?" Kakashi looked from the chunin to the stitching that ran down the left side of his chest. "You're finished?" he asked. The jounin expected to feel pain for a wound so deep, but he barely felt a pinch.  
"That's it," Iruka said, scratching the bridge of his nose. "I thought that might have been a bit more unpleasant, but I suppose the numbing agent did the trick," he frowned.  
Kakashi's brow rose against his hairline, as he eyed the chunin suspiciously. "Well, don't look so disappointed, Iruka."  
"No, I…!" Iruka shook his head, scowling. "Just shut up and stand still, so I can wrap this."  
Kakashi produced another chuckle, looking down again to marvel at Iruka's speedy work. The stitching was flawless, didn't tug at the skin… Kakashi would believe Iruka was a medic-nin himself, if he didn't know otherwise.  
Iruka set the second suture down on the trey, extending his reach for a small glass jar.  
"I'm going to put this on first," he said, referring to the jar in his hand. He twisted the top open and dipped two fingers into its jelly-like contents. "It's just an antibiotic. I use it when the students get cuts and scrapes."  
"Ma, I'm sure it has other uses," Kakashi hummed, staring off thoughtfully.  
"What was that?" Iruka snapped, his not so curious glance an intimidating one.  
"Eh…" Kakashi's eye darted back, nervously, his hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. "Nothing," he added, hoping to save himself from the chunin's wrath. "It's a line, from Icha Icha Tactics."  
"Is that so…" Iruka's brow twitched with annoyance, his ointment covered fingers running up and down the length of his stitch work. "Try not to feed me lines from those…books," he sneered, making sure to cover the entire area.  
"Maa…It's a shame you're not a fan, Iruka," Kakashi said, looking over his shoulder. He nodded towards the bookshelves against the chunin's wall. "You've got quite a lot of books yourself."  
"Yes, and a few of yours as well," Iruka grumbled, and Kakashi did see a good number of his Icha Icha books lining the lowest shelves, "except, most of my books are academic, not pornography."  
The jounin looked back, appalled. "It's not just porn," he said, defending his beloved novel series. "They're stories, based roughly around real-life experiences. They're quite humorous as well."  
"They're still porn, Kakashi, and surely that's the point," Iruka huffed, twisting the cap back onto his small jar of ointment. "No matter what tales and life experiences Jiraiya-sama managed to weave through filth, they're still stories and subject matters that cater to…a particular appetite," Iruka finished, his face now the color of a red bean.  
"Ne…" Kakashi gave a coy smile, in the face of Iruka's embarrassment. "It's usually the closet perverts who protest the loudest," he said dryly.  
"I am not a closet pervert!" Iruka growled, blushing madly, "and excuse me for not wanting to wear a preference for smut like a badge of honor!"  
Kakashi thought Iruka was holding his breath, his face was so red, and feared the chunin might possibly collapse from lack of oxygen. "Okay, okay," he chuckled. He reached out, rubbing a hand over Iruka's shoulder, hoping to soothe the chunin before he passed out. "You are a model citizen, Iruka; the most dignified prude Konoha has ever seen."  
Iruka settled down, but his eyes flashed angrily at the word 'prude'.  
"Well, I guess that's better than being a downright pervert," he mumbled, setting the ointment down against the trey. His hand moved over, picking up two large, thick rectangular patches of gauze. "But I'm not a prude."  
"No?" Iruka shook his head, raising the gauze to Kakashi's chest. He held it against the swollen skin, with one hand, while reaching down for some adhesive bandage dressings. Kakashi watched the chunin struggle to keep the gauze from falling and grab for bandage dressings at the same time. "You really should have picked them up, simultaneously—"  
Iruka's face shot up, a fiery glare piercing Kakashi in the chest.  
"Then again, your way is quite sufficient," Kakashi beamed, and a bead of sweat dropped from his temple.  
"That's what I thought," Iruka said through gritted teeth, unraveling the dressings. "You're going to have to lift your arm." Kakashi obeyed, lifting the useless weight that was his left arm. He watched as Iruka placed the start of the bandage just below his armpit. "The wound is spaced out pretty badly, but I think we can get away with dressing just this shoulder."  
"I would prefer that," Kakashi said. "It'll be easier to redress, when I have to."  
Iruka nodded in agreement, pulling the wrap over the jounin's shoulder.  
The two fell into a comfortable silence, what with Iruka's concentration focused solely on securing the wrap. They needed to be tight, Kakashi knew, but not too tight that they irritated the wound or put on any unnecessary pressure. Alternatively, the wrappings couldn't be so loose as to invite possible unraveling. Kakashi thought back to how Iruka had to unwrap his body tape, as the jounin was unable to do it himself. It was then that he first declined to sit down, too proud, apparently, to show any more weakness in front of the younger man.  
"Thank you," the jounin said.  
"For what?" Iruka asked, smoothing out the bandages with a press of his fingers.  
"I didn't thank you, for helping me out of my wraps."  
"Oh," Iruka voiced, blinking. "Well, with the state you're in…" Iruka swallowed, his eyes brimming with grief. "Let's just say I didn't expect much from you, tonight. I know anyone else in your condition would have collapsed from shock by now. I'm surprised you're still coherent, actually."  
Kakashi's grey orb grew wide. "I'm full of surprises," he said.  
"I know," Iruka smirked, his desolate stare far from humored. "…I want to admit something, Kakashi, but I don't want you to dismiss it as just me worrying too much or me misplacing my concerns."  
"I'm listening, Iruka," Kakashi said, unable to tear his gaze from the soft-spoken chunin. "I won't dismiss what you have to say."  
Iruka's shoulders fell in a lengthy breath, as he resumed his wrapping at a slower pace.  
"I was afraid for you," the younger man admitted, his voice growing bold. "I wasn't at first. Usually, the Hokage doesn't go into battles unless it's absolutely necessary. Then word started spreading that you were headed for Nakamura, and I…" Iruka shook his head, laughing pitifully. "I think I panicked. I couldn't stop thinking about how this would be your first major crisis, as Hokage, and I worried you might bite off more than you can chew. To prove something to the elders."  
"Iruka."  
The name fell from his lips with tremendous weight, pulling Kakashi forward. Arms brushed up against him, as their owner continued to dress his wound at a steady pace. The jounin realized then just how much Iruka was doing for him, treating him…taking care of him. When Iruka reached over again, his fingers gliding over his now bandaged wound, Kakashi felt both exhilaration and anticipation tug at his heart.  
Iruka ripped a clean part and placed what was left of the bandage wrap back on the trey. His gaze returned to look upon his finished work but instead darted towards the Anbu tattoo forever etched into Kakashi's skin. Kakashi saw in Iruka's eyes an acceptance for the insignia; for the burdens he carried, rather than fear, doubt, or a need to look away.  
"I know," Iruka whispered, fixated on Kakashi's tattoo. "I'm just—"  
"You had reason to fear," Kakashi said. He reached up, pressing fingers against his bandaged chest. "My actions were somewhat impulsive, as I could not say with certainty what we would be up against. Still, I put myself on the battlefield, hoping that my presence could be of some use." Kakashi then reached out to wrap a hand around a navy-blue sleeve, covering the Konoha emblem, as a callous thumb rubbed against Iruka's shoulder. "The elders upset me, yes, but they did not provoke me."  
Iruka nodded, his hand rising to meet the one resting against his shoulder. Warm, tan fingers interlocked with cold, pale ones, warming the cold, pale ones if only slightly.  
"If there's anything to prove to the elders, it's that my loyalty to my friends," Kakashi squeezed Iruka's arm, firmly, "and the people I care about is more important to me than whatever they have to say."  
Iruka nodded, his gaze drifting, relaxed against the jounin's touch. Kakashi searched his gaze, however, wanting to see that understanding look him in the eye.  
"…I had the ninken search for you." Almost, Kakashi thought, studying Iruka's reaction. The chunin gasped, his mouth gaping, as he almost looked up. "I pulled them from official duty, actually, and told them to look for you instead." Iruka's hand fell from his shoulder.  
Kakashi's did the same, reluctantly so.  
"In any case, they'll be gone all night. I've ordered them to search for missing persons and pick up on the enemy's scent. Their task will take some time, given that the weather will be somewhat of a hindrance."  
"I was wondering why they weren't here," Iruka said, finally. "Though, I couldn't see any of them waiting out a disaster like this. They would want to help, wouldn't they?"  
"Yes," Kakashi's eye looked away, cynically. "They're not as useless as they look." A genuine laugh escaped Iruka's lungs, causing Kakashi to smile. He glanced down at his dressed wound, before setting eye on Iruka once more. "So have you finished treating my wound?"  
"Yes," Iruka confirmed, smiling.  
"Good," Kakashi said, his eye crinkling, "then how about we have some tea, then?"  
"No," Iruka said quickly, shaking his head. "You lie down, and I'll serve you some tea." The chunin sighed, sensing the jounin's disappointment. "You need to get off your feet, Kakashi…take some of the strain off your body."  
"I feel fine now," Kakashi argued, believing Iruka simply couldn't get over having almost seen him collapse earlier that night. "I'm not nauseous or disoriented."  
"It doesn't matter," Iruka huffed, scolding him. "You need a good night's sleep." He looked to his couch, disapprovingly. "You can sleep in my bed, tonight, and I'll take the couch," he decided, crossing his arms.  
"That won't be necessary," Kakashi replied. The prospect of sleeping in a bed, Iruka's bed, threatened to color his every thought, but he fought against such a provocative suggestion. "The night is young and I don't intend on sleeping just yet."  
"Stop being a stubborn ass," Iruka chided, glaring at the lump in Kakashi's throat, "and do what's best for you. You need rest."  
"It can wait," Kakashi said, growing steadily annoyed. He didn't want to sleep, didn't want to waste what time he shared with Iruka. He couldn't foresee when the chunin might not speak to him or try to avoid him next. He spent the last week stealing glances and catching Iruka in intermittent conversations, but he longed for more. He ached for the time they shared, and no amount of pain could compare to that ache.  
"You're in pain."  
"You've stitched the wound, and now the pain is a minor concern."  
"No, not that pain. This…" Iruka reached forward. "This pain," he said, pressing the palm of his hand above Kakashi's heart. The jounin stared at it, mesmerized, Iruka's fingers rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. "You're hurting inside, Kakashi, and you may want to ignore it, but this is something I can't overlook." Iruka frowned, his gaze lowering to the floor. "…I know, I haven't been a very good friend these past few days, and for selfish reasons, but I'm here for you now." He looked up, a fleeting hope glistening in his eyes. "I once asked you if you'd tell me when something was troubling you. Do you remember?"  
Kakashi nodded.  
"I told you that being the Hokage didn't mean you had to go it alone," Iruka urged, tapping lightly at Kakashi's chest. "It didn't surprise me, to find you standing at the Memorial Stone, in the cold, and I knew why you didn't want to go the hospital… You were punishing yourself, choosing solitude rather than accepting the consequences of your decisions. The hospital is filled with civilians and Leaf ninja right now. As Hokage, you're responsible for them, and I know that that is a difficult burden to bear." Iruka's fingers traced over the electric burn imprinted on Kakashi's skin. "What happened on the battlefield and what happened at the committee hearing, between you and Naruto…"  
Iruka shook away the memory, a disgruntled noise escaping him.  
"You want to shield yourself away from what you're feeling, because you think it makes you weak," he lowered his hand, looking up, "but it doesn't."  
Iruka turned towards his trey, quickly busying himself with putting things in order.  
"I-I'm probably not making any sense right now, but it would put me at ease to see you get some rest, Kakashi," he said, Kakashi's unresponsiveness making him nervous. He expected the jounin to taunt him or berate him, any moment now, for his nonsensical rambling…  
Kakashi hunched forward, his head falling against his chest.  
"Kakashi…?" Iruka's gaze snapped up, his eyes growing wide. "Kakashi!"  
For the second time that night, Iruka felt his heart constrict in fear. It happened first when Kakashi almost collapsed, at the Memorial Stone. This time, Kakashi was standing but unresponsive, his head bobbing forward lifelessly. Iruka couldn't see his face, due to the unruly mane of silver hair obscuring his sight, but he searched the jounin's sunken frame, desperate for an answer.  
"Kakashi, what's wrong?" He reached out for him, hoping to prevent an impending fall. Still, Kakashi's head simply dangled, his shoulders slouching within the chunin's grip. "What's happening?" he pleaded frantically, reaching up to hold the jounin's head in his hands. "Say someth– Mmph!"  
An unsuspecting whimper escaped his throat, as Kakashi's lips pressed against his own.  
The jounin was quick to react, lifting his head into the chunin's warm touch. As Iruka stood frozen in shock, gawking at his unmasked face, Kakashi snaked his hardened arms around the chunin's body, clutching at the flimsy blue fabric that covered his back.  
Iruka's brow strained, his eyes squeezing shut, but he couldn't erase the sight from his mind. The jaw in his grasp was narrow, like the slightness of Kakashi's pointed nose and the flawless contour of his cheeks. The jagged scar across Kakashi's left socket reached midway down his face, on level with his nostrils. Then there was nothing left but soft, pink-tinted lips: thin, moist, and enveloping his in a powerful kiss.  
"Ahh…!" Iruka's shock and terror had yet to subside, unable to believe what was happening. He stumbled back and pushed away, but his lips betrayed him, clinging to Kakashi's in quick, eager kisses. The grip around him loosened, and Iruka soon felt eager hands explore the length of his back. He sighed, eyes fluttering, his muffled cries drowning in the heat of their embrace.  
Kakashi felt a heavy groan escape him, as he wrestled with the retreating chunin. He followed Iruka's uneven steps backwards, darting forward to meet every chaste kiss. Iruka's uncertainty came out in weak sighs, provoking a ravenous growl from the depths of his lungs. He relished in the firm, muscled curves beneath his touch, the tan hands clinging to his face before falling against his chest. His injured body cried out against his movements, but he ignored its sharp protests. He was enamored with Iruka, and this pain could not extinguish that yearning in the pit of his stomach.  
The two parted for air, their lips hovering inches from one another, just as Iruka felt his back collide with the kitchen counter.  
He panted heavily, lowering his gaze onto a bandaged chest and inhaling as much air as his lungs could contain. Kakashi leaned forward, resting his forehead against the chunin's temple, as heated breaths mingled together. Iruka closed his eyes and swallowed hard, the lips ghosting over his skin igniting shocks up and down his spine. Uncertainty took hold of him, questioning how the events of the past few minutes could have possibly turned into this. One moment he was panicking over Kakashi's wellbeing, and the next he felt the jounin taking hold of him, revealing his face to him, kissing him.  
Iruka thought he might scream he was so angered and confused.  
Iruka's shoulders began to rise and fall at a fast pace, doubling in time to his panted breathing. He thought he might be hyperventilating and could only cling to the hard surface of Kakashi's skin. He recalled trying to push this solid form away, a few moments ago, as the suddenness of it all caught him by surprise. Iruka couldn't face Kakashi now, couldn't look him in the eye. Not that he would, because the jounin certainly hadn't meant to show him his face.  
Iruka shook his head, the stinging behind his gaze almost unbearable.  
"Kakashi…"  
"I don't want to choose solitude." Kakashi lifted a hand to Iruka's face, brushing his thumb against the chunin's brow. His lidded gaze watched the chunin, eyeing the rise and fall of his shoulders, his shaking lips, and the dark lashes that flickered over his sight. He felt his own heartbeat pulse within his fingertips, as they traced lightly over Iruka's parted mouth. "I would rather choose you, Iruka."  
The Rokudaime heard his words, knew that they were true, and so held Iruka even tighter.  
The chunin had been right. Kakashi would have stood before the Memorial Stone all night, alone, grieving in his own way. He would have gone on, regaling on considerably better days, when he didn't have the safety of Konoha and its brethren villages playing so heavily on his conscious. He would have wallowed in self-pity, leaving his weary thoughts to drown under a frigid downpour.  
Until tonight, Kakashi had never ignored an injury to where he couldn't seek medical attention on his own. The jounin didn't know what he would have done had Iruka not rescued him from himself. Kakashi found that the chunin's company was all he could ever want for and now, as the familiar warmth of Iruka's mere presence seeped into his skin, dulling his pain, he knew that he wanted for more of him.  
Kakashi received his wish, when a warm hand reached around his neck and pulled him down. He dipped low, eagerly, capturing the chunin in another bruising kiss. He closed his eye, brow furrowed, gripping the chunin by the waist. He felt another hand lift from his chest, accompanying the other, raking through his hair with needy fingers. Iruka's advances were strong, intense, provoking from the jounin a need to feel more of him. His own hands began to travel downwards, bunching up the hem of Iruka's shirt. The chunin let out a sigh that trembled against their lips, as his lithe fingers dipped beneath the navy blue fabric.  
"K-Kakashi…!" His name escaped Iruka in a broken gasp, the chunin's half-lidded gaze shuddering close. Their mouths remained locked in a seamless kiss, however, plunged together in desperation and desire. Kakashi let his hands dance over hidden flesh, finding the expanse of skin smooth and rough, soft and toned. The chunin's physique matched his nature, much to Kakashi's appreciation. "Ah, we…"  
"Mm," Kakashi moaned in response, his hands gliding further upward.  
"We can't—"  
"Yes we can."  
"You need—"  
"You."  
"I—" Iruka gasped, his breath hitched against their open mouths.  
The exchange came to a halt. Kakashi soon sent Iruka reeling as he rubbed his fingers against the chunin's nipples. Their mouths returned to each other, obsessed with the feeling, as Kakashi explored a body he could not yet see. The jounin wanted to see, however. He released Iruka, reaching farther up to pull what was quickly becoming a hindrance from the chunin's body.  
"Kakashi…" Kakashi wanted to see Iruka, the scars the chunin spoke of. He tugged at the fabric, prompting the other to lift his arms. A few seconds more and, between fervent kisses, Kakashi had the turtleneck pulled from Iruka's body.  
Could he afford the chakra lost, Kakashi would have opened his Sharingan eye. As it was, his normal eye would have to do, consuming the dark, naked torso now exposed to him. The jounin thought to lunge at Iruka, attack his skin, when he heard something metallic rustle around the chunin's neck. His gaze traveled upward, from the thin wisps of hair trailing down from Iruka's navel, the faint, brown lines spared across his firm abdomen, the lean muscles of his chest and arms until, at last, his eye caught sight of something he didn't quite expect.  
Kakashi stared, transfixed.  
Iruka jerked nervously, wrapping his arms around his stomach, looking anywhere but at the jounin studying his half-naked form.  
"No," Kakashi said, blinking. He carefully pulled restless arms away from such magnificence, gliding his hands up Iruka's dark torso. His fingers soon met with two steel plates. "My dog tags," he breathed, eye growing wide. He rubbed fondly at their bumpy surfaces. "I was looking for these."  
Iruka gazed down in shock, reaching up to touch tentatively at the chain around his neck. His eyes then shot upward, frantically, meeting Kakashi's gaze with a silent plea. "I-I'm sorry," he swallowed nervously, panic gripping him. "Y-you left them on the sink, one day, and I just, I just put them on and I wasn't thinking and I just wanted…" his voice faltered, not knowing what to say to make up for taking the jounin's beloved tags. "I'm sor—"  
Kakashi gathered Iruka in his arms, crushing his lips against his. Iruka made a whimpering noise, when the jounin found his mouth once more, parting trembling lips with a probing tongue. He gripped Iruka close, brushing the whole of their bodies together, feeling the heat and longing coarse through their beings. Everything traveled downward, like an avalanche falling from the pits of their stomach….pooling in their groins.  
Iruka felt it too, rubbing against Kakashi. That's when he moved, beyond himself, pushing the two away from the kitchen counter. He felt hands clutching his lower back, dipping below his waistline, and let out an animalistic groan. He held Kakashi close, guiding him, delighting in the tongue moving against his own. He breeched the walls of Kakashi's mouth, returning the deep kiss with great passion. His lidded gaze danced between open and close, as he guided Kakashi from his living room.  
The two walked, knowing and not knowing where this would lead. They did not share further words, as words were beyond them at this point.  
The sound of heavy rain and violent winds stormed outside, pelting Iruka's apartment with muffled thuds, but Kakashi and Iruka had long since grown deaf to the sound. Kakashi, injured, slightly damp and in pain, felt everything fall away, when Iruka gripped him by the hair. Iruka, tired, worried and anxious, allowed his racing thoughts to focus on this moment, as the two moved as one. With eyes closed and mouths open, there was nothing to see and everything to feel. Their legs never stopped, brushing against each other in subtle stumbles. There were walls the two pressed each other up against, stealing deep, long kisses from one another.  
Then Kakashi met with a solid surface, one that gave way with little pressure. A dark room suddenly surrounded them, illuminated only by the bright, metallic clouds that shined through a wide window. The back of Kakashi's legs pressed up against a soft surface, and he readily lowered himself. Iruka followed suit, leaning forward in his descent. They parted lips, briefly, to lie down together. Kakashi opened his eye, staring at the ceiling of Iruka's bedroom, before his gaze fell closed in a shudder of pleasure. Iruka had his feverish lips pressed against his face; his jaw and, finally, down the length of his neck.  
Kakashi groaned, hands roaming Iruka's body. There was weight on top of him, legs on either side of him, and he reached out, hands gliding down the chunin's thighs. He pushed Iruka forward, against him, until the evidence of their desire collided with breathtaking friction.  
Iruka cried out, lowering his face within the nook of Kakashi's neck. There was a spark, every time their arousals brushed against the confines of their clothes, rubbing together. Kakashi's head reeled back, a drawn out sigh escaping him when heated breaths turned into wet lips and a tongue that lapped against his neck. He gazed down with heavy eyes, meeting with the locks of brown hair that fell beneath his chin. Iruka traveled down, leaving open mouth kisses against his skin, eventually meeting with the wrappings around his shoulder. He kissed them as well, lowering down to press his lips lightly against his bandaged wound.  
Kakashi whimpered at such a sight, reaching up to hold Iruka's face in his hands. The chunin looked up, lips lingering for one last kiss, before traveling upwards. Kakashi leaned forward, capturing Iruka's lips in a hungry embrace as he lowered himself against the jounin once more. Kakashi's fingers teased the chunin's waistline, tugging at his pants. There was a hint of hesitation within his slow movements, as though hoping to avoid detection.  
With a sigh, Iruka rolled onto his mattress, undoing the ties of his pants; discarding of all other clothes. He couldn't be bothered with them, not when the jounin beside him reached out to him, ghosting over his jaw with feather-light touches and nibbling fervently against his ear. Iruka pulled Kakashi against him, eliciting a moan from the jounin. His hands moved down, edging over the hem of Kakashi's pants, before he pulled them down as well. Their lips met again, tongues entwined, and their bodies did the same. Iruka tugged and tugged, a part of the jounin springing forth from confinement, as what remained of the Hokage's attire pooled at the jounin's legs.  
Kakashi kicked at his clothes, until they disappeared somewhere, deep into the night. The air was far from cold, but his naked body demanded the warmth, the embrace of the other, and so he rolled over, trapping Iruka beneath him. Their bodies melded together, fitting like a puzzle, their aroused states rubbing in deliciously slow friction. Groans, moans, soft gasps and silent cries filled the air, mixing with the heat of their skin. With one hand, Kakashi glided his fingers through Iruka's hair, the other one reaching down to push Iruka's legs apart.  
The chunin let out a low moan, his back arching into Kakashi's steady thrust. The jounin repeated the action, his pelvis pressed against Iruka's, his skin rubbing against him. The friction multiplied and his body pulsed, aching for impending release. Iruka lifted his legs, pressing them against the man above him, and met every thrust with one of his own. His hardened member twitched, burning with need, rubbing restlessly against Kakashi's rigged member. A flash of light danced against his eyelids, when he wrapped his arms around the jounin's shoulders, panting heavily against him. Kakashi reached between them once more.  
A hand wrapped itself around Iruka's member, a callous thumb rubbing over its weeping head.  
"Ah-ahh!" Iruka cried out, clutching Kakashi close. Kakashi's touch shocked and overwhelmed him, stroking down the base and up the length of him. His eyes snapped shut, and he could no longer focus on the movements of his lips. They simply moved, hungrily, against those of the other. He freed a hand from around Kakashi's head and reached down as well, meeting with Kakashi's aching member. He gripped it, causing the jounin to shudder, as he quickly rubbed the wet, silky substance dripping from its tip.  
"Haa," Kakashi hissed, thrusting into Iruka's hand. He lowered his mouth, sucking at the chunin's collarbone, his cheek brushing against the cool steel of his dog tags. He pumped Iruka in time with his thrusts, and Iruka did the same, the two driving harder, faster, thrusting and grinding, clutching and gripping, until cold perspiration seeped from their burning skin, complementing their passionate cries. Pressure built up inside of them, within their mutual task of relieving each other.  
Then, at last, Kakashi and Iruka seized, their bodies releasing simultaneously. Hands held each other tight as they surrendered to that powerful feeling, as the realms of pain and pure ecstasy combined as one.  
Kakashi collapsed against Iruka, too weak to hold himself up. His breath came in labored pants, much like those escaping Iruka in short breadths of air. His eye opened from its lidded state, studying Iruka and his spent face. The chunin suffered through aftershocks of pleasure, and he felt them ripple against him, causing another shudder to escape from his lips.  
Iruka opened his eyes, chest falling, his fingers dancing lazily against Kakashi's back.  
Kakashi pulled up, planting his lips against the chunin's, and the two shared a lingering kiss. It was gentle, weak, and lasted longer than any prior embrace. Then Kakashi's face disappeared, burying itself against a dark shoulder.  
Iruka stared at his ceiling, frowning, lowering his lips against a silver crop of hair. He pulled his hand from between them, tracing up Kakashi's chiseled frame to hold his bandaged shoulder from behind. Heated breaths heaved against him, escaping their owner in abrupt bouts of air. Iruka kissed the top of Kakashi's head again and left his lips lingering, his eyes closing on their own accord. When Kakashi trembled, when a hollow ache suffocated the jounin and tore him apart from the inside out, Iruka was there, lying awake to hold him close and hold him tight.  
He brushed his lips against strands of sweaty, silver hair, well into the night, wishing to stifle the pain that escaped from the depths of Kakashi's soul.

Ready for chapter 25


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